Finite Erasure
by Trixx
Summary: When you're dead, you're dead. There's no coming back from it. But sometimes, you're not really dead at all.


Authors Notes: I actually have to thank a couple of people... which sounds odd, cause this is so not the Grammy's but... I must. Because without them? This fic would have died a slow horrible death. So here goes:  
>Thank you <strong>gertinator<strong> my lovely little woman, who inspires me to new heights of depravity and does not run screaming when I come up with very bad ideas.  
><strong>fickledame<strong> who betad this part of the fic, and gave me clear concise concrit on the rest of it.  
><strong>afrocurl<strong> who helped make a heartbreaking scene even worse and tore ME to pieces with her suggestions.  
><strong>darkhavens<strong> who helped me with the medical file, to make it sound professional and legal. This was totally above and beyond, since she doesn't even play in this fandom.  
><strong>tsapphire13<strong>, **cinaya19**, **nemo_88**, and **misa_05**, for holding my hands and patting me on the back. Without your encouragement... I probably wouldn't have made it past the first time the damn fic made me cry. Thank you... for holding my hand and crying with me.  
>Authors Notes II: Written for <span>NaNoWriMo<span>

Outside the small beachfront apartment complex, the sun was shining, squirrels were twittering, and at any moment cartoon birds were going to swoop through the air. Inside was definitely another matter.

Logan Echolls contemplated the contents of his fridge. Upon further deliberation, he decided he definitely didn't have enough beer to get through this particular day. It was Veronica Mars' birthday. August 1st, 2008. How the time flew.

She was going to be twenty-one. Old enough to drink, legally. Old enough to run away with him into the night without worrying her father was going to send the police out after her. Her father wouldn't worry anyway, because she was with Logan.

Logan snorted at the thought. Keith would always worry about Veronica; it was what a good father did. Not that Logan had much experience in what made a good father, but Keith Mars? He was it. Whatever _it_ was.

The apartment was small, tiny compared to where he grew up. The kitchen was attached to the living room. There was only one hallway that led to his bedroom and the bathroom. He hadn't bothered with furnishings. A couch, a TV, and his bed were the only things decorating the living space. College boy chic. Veronica had lectured him often enough on the usage of his money.

"_What about our future? What about when we're no longer able to work? Save your money, pretty boy. We'll need it later._" She'd laughed as she said it, tiny hands gripping his shoulders. On Logan's part, he'd swung her into his arms, twirling her around the mansion's living room before setting her back on her feet.

He'd agreed to anything she wanted, everything she wanted in the blink of an eye. He always had, always would. Veronica Mars was impossible to resist. Especially when she had a point. If he was going to take care of himself for the rest of his life, if he was going to assure a long prosperous future, he'd have had to save money, instead of spending like there was no tomorrow.

The arguments over money had been loud, boisterous, followed by intense make out sessions to make up. They always made out when they were patching over the wounds they'd inflicted.

Trudging wearily down the hall, Logan went to his room to change. He couldn't be seen today, of all days, walking around town in his pajama bottoms and not much else. Keith would be highly amused, but concerned at the same time. It was never good to bring the father down on his head, it led to lectures and stern looks.

Moving slowly, he made his way down the stairs and out to his vehicle. There was enough time to make a quick stop at the liquor store before the festivities began. He'd promised Keith he'd stop by some time today, and then there was Veronica. He'd been missing her lately, unable to visit as often as he'd like. Between school, homework, and the binge drinking, he'd barely been able to fit in time to sleep.

In and out of the liquor store and he was on his way to the Mars residence, beer tucked safely in the back of the Xterra. Keith didn't have to know what he had planned. If he found out, so be it, but at the moment the beer was just between Veronica and him.

Pulling into the parking lot, Logan sat staring dejectedly up at the set of condos. He didn't belong here anymore; he didn't belong in this place at all. Veronica wasn't here, and Keith had his own family, he definitely didn't need a potty mouthed kid hanging around. It wasn't right, being in this place without her to hold his hand. It wasn't right. Nothing was right since…

Cutting that thought off before it had a chance to metastasize, he shut off the engine by removing his keys, took a deep breath; taking strength in the oxygen that filled his lungs, he prepared himself to face the inquisition. Keith could have shown those Spanish bastards a thing or two, tactics on getting information from a stone. He was surprisingly sneaky about it, the same way Veronica had been in high school. Logan had learned years ago where Veronica had gotten her tenacity. It was one of the better traits she'd picked up from her father, her love of baseball being another. Logan shook himself out of his reverie, random thoughts were not getting him closer to Keith's door.

Logan finally reached the door, raising his fist to knock when Keith's voice shouted from the inside. "If you knock on that door, you're guaranteed to get your fingers broken." Logan smiled slightly before opening the door and stepping inside. Keith's cheery face greeted him in the dim room. "Take a seat, I'm almost ready." He turned back towards the mirror hung on the wall, to finish tying the knot in his tie.

Keith met Logan's eyes in the mirror. "At least tell me the beer is safely tucked far away from the driver's seat?" Keith's raised eyebrow and tilted head made it clear Logan wouldn't be able to fool him. There was no getting past the super dad.

"It's in the back, safe and sound…" Logan paused then smirked. "Want one?"

"Yeah, think I'll pass on drinking with the not-yet-legal child." Keith smirked right back.

"I'm only a short time from being legal. Pretty soon we'll be able to split the beer, instead of me having to drink the whole thing myself." Logan's face lost all expression once the words had left his mouth. It had been the wrong thing to say.

"The monkey still on your back?" Keith asked seriously, but kept his expression light. He worried about Logan. Worried about his schooling, his grades, the amount he drank, and the amount of time he spent cloistered in his small apartment.

"Some days are better than others." Logan smiled wanly, trying to reassure Keith, at least a little. "Some days are worse than others too." He admitted quietly.

Keith nodded slightly, giving no other reaction. "Ready, then?" Keith grinned slightly, turning to face Logan.

"As I'll ever be, sir." Logan smirked again, a little bit of his old self returning.

It had been a long time since Keith had seen that look in Logan's eyes. The one that said, I'Fuck you world, I'll do what I want to.'/I It warmed Keith's heart, but made him sad. No one should have seen and been through, all the things that Logan had been through in his short life. It wasn't fair, but Keith had learned a long time ago, life was never fair.

"Let's take my car, I'll drop you back here when we're done." Keith grinned at Logan's exasperated expression.

"I won't drink and drive," Logan stated, before grabbing his keys. He moved towards the door before turning hesitantly back to Keith. "If you're with me…" he trailed off unsure of how to actually say what he was trying to say. "Less temptation, you know?" He ducked his head bashfully. It was always hard for him to admit to his hero that sometimes, sometimes he was still just a boy.

"Alright, you drive." Keith laughed, trying to lighten the moment. "But this time? Let's do something really neat!" He clapped his hands once. "Let's only do 20 over the speed limit," he paused dramatically, "And if Lamb chases, make sure you lose him on the back streets." Keith did his little hustle dance step and headed toward Logan.

"You realize that's terribly uncool, right?" Logan laughed at Keith's mock glare.

They moved out the door, a comfortable silence descending upon them. They were half way to their destination before either one of them spoke again.

"Did you…" Logan's voice was soft hesitant, but he continued doggedly, "Did you get her anything for her birthday?"

"My only daughter turning twenty-one, and not get her something? A token of my appreciation for all that she is?" Keith scoffed, before pulling a stuffed unicorn from inside his coat pocket.

The picture was so absurd. Keith Mars, bad ass private detective, former sheriff, and all around mean dude, pulling a fuzzy pink unicorn out of his coat pocket like it was something he did every day, Logan couldn't help the bubble of laughter that spilled from him.

"You realize you just jeopardized your standing as all around manly man right?" Logan laughed.

"I'll have you know unicorns are manly," Keith snarked back.

"Check the glove compartment." Logan laughed again, smile slipping for a moment as Keith pulled open the glove compartment. An identical fuzzy pink unicorn spilled out into Keith's waiting hands. "Great minds think alike." The smile was completely gone now, as Logan pulled into the parking lot.

"She'll love them, Logan." Keith placed a placating hand on Logan's shoulder, patting gently. He really wasn't sure what else to do. "Come on, let's get moving." Keith slid easily from the Xterra as Logan took deep calming breaths. A moment later they were walking through tall grass, side by side.

Keith held both unicorns, one in each hand, as they walked. Both of them were silent, breathing deeply as they walked. The closer they came to their destination, the harsher Logan's breathing became. Panic took over, blacking out the edges of Logan's vision, the world got smaller, harsher, narrowed to a single focus. Keith glanced worriedly at Logan, unsure if the visit was in both their best interests or not.

They knelt in tandem, Keith's knees creaking, showing his age. It was something Logan had refused to think about. Keith getting older, grayer, a little more brittle. Life wasn't always sunshine and roses for Logan, but Keith was always a constant. Keith getting older wasn't in the life he'd worked out in his head. Keith wasn't supposed to age, but Logan had to admit to himself, they all were.

Except Veronica.

The smooth stone was a lightly colored marble, simple, elegant. A pale memoriam for a girl who shone so brightly. '_She walked through fire and didn't get burned._' The epitaph was chiseled, worn at the edges from fingers stroking it in dreamy hazes of memory.

Keith had chosen, aptly, the words. Painstakingly thinking of and then rejecting line after line, quote after quote. Nothing fit, nothing described Veronica, nothing was good enough to say goodbye, to sum up her life in a few short words.

They'd been together, Keith and Logan, shooting ideas back and forth, sending the little paper thought planes into the trashcan. They'd agreed loudly, vocally, to set the trashcan on fire when they were finished, giving Veronica a proper send off. They'd been standing in the ally behind the Mars Investigations office, watching the tiny can burn away to cinder and ash, when Logan had glanced up at Keith.

"She walked through fire," Logan had suggested, wry tone not lost on Keith. Veronica had definitely walked through fire. She'd walked through fire to put out her father who was actually _on_ fire.

"She didn't get burned," Keith rejoined, an air of satisfaction in his voice. "It's perfect." Nodding at Logan, motioning towards the back door to the building, they'd headed back up to the office.

"She was always walking through fire, but she got burned plenty of times," Logan had mused, moving towards the little fridge in the small kitchenette. Pulling out two beers he had handed one silently to Keith. "She had more scars than most people twice her age." Logan had smiled slightly. "They just weren't visible."

"Not visible? Come on, you were there for the weed-wacker hair cut right? She cut it herself." Keith had grinned at the memory.

"I remember. I do believe I made fun of it, too. But man, she was hot." Logan had smiled widely as Keith choked on his beer. Smirking slightly as Logan sipped slowly at his own. That was the first time Keith had allowed Logan to drink in front of him. Apparently deciding on the epitaph for your dead daughter and dead girlfriend was cause for celebratory contribution to the delinquency of a minor.

"I choose to believe I didn't hear you say that." Keith had grimaced, once more sipping at his beer.

The epitaph was clear, plain, and bore the emotions of the two damaged men who'd loved her more than their own lives. Who still loved her. That love was what brought them to the cemetery in the middle of the afternoon, to celebrate her birthday.

Logan glanced up at Keith, knowing he'd been zoning out on the cold stone for awhile, waiting for Keith to make some snarky comment. Keith had a look of understanding on his face, a deep knowledge of soul-tearing loss clear in his eyes. Holding out the unicorn in his hands, Keith waited for Logan to take it.

The soft fuzzy pink of the unicorn felt foreign in Logan's hands. Burning his fingers with the memory of a pink and giggling Veronica. Turning back to the tombstone, he placed it on the grass beside the dried flowers. The same flowers he'd brought the last time he'd visited. "Happy birthday, sweetheart." He rubbed a smudge of dirt from the cold stone. "Twenty-one today. Let's run away, your father will never catch us, not with you leading the way." Keith's muffled snort of laughter broke Logan from his pensive mood, turning to grin at the man by his side.

"We talked about it. Running away together when she turned twenty-one," Logan admitted softly, hand still stroking the stone. "We figured we'd get to the city limits before you'd catch up to us with your shot gun." Logan smiled at the memory. "She always said she'd rather we ran away with your permission, it was better than getting shot."

"I'd never have given it. Not unless she was taking me with her." Keith nodded slowly, the soft sadness taking over his once sparkling eyes. "But the shotgun sounds like a good idea." Keith placed his own unicorn on the tombstone.

It had gotten harder, over the years, harder to say anything to her at all. What do you say to your bad-ass action figure daughter, when she's not there to answer you back? Keith had given up trying to figure that out long ago.

"She'd want you to be happy, you know." Keith tried the old argument, one more time. It was always just one more time where Logan was concerned.

"I know." Logan smiled slightly. "When the time is right, I will be," he promised softly. "Let's get out of here, let sleeping ghosts lie." He stood, offering his hand to Keith. "Besides, if we're not back in time for dinner, Mrs. Mars will blame me, and I won't get any of her chocolate chip cake." The corner of Logan's mouth twitched, raised, then lowered. Logan turned back to head towards the parking lot.

"You know Alicia won't hold it against you. Not today anyway," Keith remarked. Everyone knew what today was.

They walked in companionable silence, the air still and silent around them. Logan had a fanciful thought that even the birds were in mourning; they missed her just as much as he did.

"Three years is a long time to mourn, Logan," Keith spoke quietly once they were ensconced back in the Xterra. "Say goodbye."

"I'm not ready yet," Logan repeated, for what seemed like the thousandth time. "She doesn't feel gone to me." Logan stared straight ahead, turning the ignition with only a slight tremble to his hand.

There was nothing else that Keith could say, nothing that would change Logan's mind, change the way he felt.

"I'm just not ready yet."

Dinner with Wallace, Alicia, Darrell, and Keith had been a tired affair. They were all exhausted, worn down from the years of grieving. Beaten down from the ghost sitting at the table with them. She'd been there, sitting beside him, laughing at Wallace's jokes, laughing when her father had taken the beer from Logan's hand and put it back in the fridge. She'd been smiling, confident, love shining brightly in her eyes.

Visiting the Fennel residence was always difficult. The first time Logan had seen boxes of Keith's belongings littering the hallways, stacked neatly in Alicia's room, cluttering the living room, had been even harder. Keith had finally been moving on, trying to make a life for himself. Trying to get past the loss that threatened to drown them both.

Keith and Logan had shared a moment of understanding; a small nod to acknowledge the message Keith had been giving Logan. It was time. Time to let her go, time to let her rest.

Turning away from the sadness in Keith's eyes, Logan had smiled at his bright shiny girl. Smiled at her with the desperation of a drowning man. He had to let her go sometime, but that night; that night was not the night for letting go.

Alicia greeted them with open arms, a sad smile, and enough food to feed an army. It was just another day without her, without Veronica. She sat beside him, laughing and watching as he ate with her family. Logan knew no one else could see her, but her ghost, the memory would not leave him in peace.

This was why it was so difficult to be in the Mars-Fennel household. Everywhere he looked there was evidence of change. Except for Veronica. Sitting beside him she stayed exactly the same as she had the morning of the disastrous field trip.

Logan entered his apartment a few hours later, beer tucked firmly under his arm. It was early in the day, well before six, but it was a day for drowning his sorrows. The beer in his fridge quickly disappeared, methodically, single file, swallowed down until the world was blurry.

Three years, it had been almost three years since the bus crash. The one that took nine students to their watery graves, including Veronica. Veronica Mars. Logan stared at her picture, the frame worn bare of paint from too many hours spent holding it in his sweaty hands. She'd been beautiful, full of life, smiling and staring danger in the face without a care in the world. Or so it seemed. She'd sent his father to prison. She'd found out who killed Lilly Kane. Their Lilly. She'd solved the crime of the century, and she'd only been seventeen.

He took another swallow of the beer, letting it slide down his throat, never taking his eyes off her smiling face. The picture had been taken that summer. The summer after his father had been arrested. Her bruises were still fading, yellows and greens blossoming across her face. She'd been staring into the camera with this mischievous smirk on her face, the twinkle in her eye telling him she'd known something he didn't. And she had. She'd attacked him with a water pistol mere seconds after he'd snapped the picture. Laughing and giggling, she'd attacked him with fervor until he'd had no choice but to throw her in the pool. Veronica was his everything.

The alcohol numbed him enough that he could, once more, admit the hard truth to himself. Veronica wasn't here with him anymore, and it was his fault. His fault she wasn't here with him, his fault she'd never see the sun again, his fault she wasn't attending his graduation this year. His fault.

Skipping out on the field trip had been the worst idea he'd ever had. Veronica talking him into it, and him letting her, had been the second.

His world was filled with so many 'what ifs.' Too many to count. 'If only' had become a way of living for him. Another swallow of beer, another of Veronica's birthdays spent celebrating alone in his apartment. She wouldn't have wanted that for him. To be alone, celebrating her life, but dwelling on her death, years after she was gone.

Logan sighed, placing the picture on the floor beside him. A high school romance, one that may not have even lasted. They could have broken up, their volatile tempers getting the best of them. He'd imagined his life without her, a life where they'd broken up in a blaze of glory, a world where they'd broken up and stayed friends. In every fantasy, she was part of his life, a bitter part, a friend part, a lover part. He'd never been able to fully imagine his life without her. A life in which Veronica Mars didn't exist.

The life he was attempting to live now.

He crawled slowly to his feet, the room spinning dizzily around him. Stripping his clothes off as he went, he made his way down the hall to the bedroom, flopping down on the bed. Another year without her, another year spent alone, lonely, trying to find a way to survive without her.

If only they'd had a chance to end things the natural way. If only they'd had the chance to grow old together.

If only.

At that moment, across the border in Ensenada, Mexico, an air ambulance took flight. Heading back towards the United States with its precious cargo.

One more citizen returning home.

_**Three Months Later**_

"Hello, you've reached Mars Investigations. We are unable to take your call at the moment, but if you leave a name and number where you can be reached, we'll get back to you at our earliest convenience. If this is regarding a case we're already working for you, please leave the case file number as well. Thank you and have a wonderful day," Veronica's voice chirped from the answering machine, echoing around the empty office.

Three years after her death and Keith Mars was still unable to change the recording. On the bad days, the days when he missed her so badly his chest ached, he would sit at her desk and replay the message, over and over, memorizing the nuances in her voice, the ones he'd almost forgotten.

This day was not a bad day.

"Hello," a hesitant voice echoed in the dim room. "I'm trying to reach Keith Mars. My name is Special Agent Steven Greene. Please phone me back as soon as possible. You can reach me at the Local F.B.I. office. The number is 555-0734 extension 2231." He paused for a moment, unsure of how to continue. "This is in regards to your daughter, Veronica." There was a soft click as Steven disconnected the call.

This was the part of his job that Steven had always hated. Speaking to the families. The Mars case was turning out to be a spectacular career builder and that was something Steven couldn't come to terms with. Building a career on the ruination of someone else's life. It was wrong and not why he'd joined the F.B.I. in the first place. He wanted to help, not destroy.

A landmark case, he'd been told when handed the case file. Twelve girls in total, all recovered from a tiny shack in the middle of Ensenada. She'd been legally dead for years when they'd found her. No discernable way to identify her.

Steven sighed. Veronica Mars, she was special. The tragic Neptune High bus crash claimed her life three years ago. The body never found, the crash assumed to have had no survivors.

Until now.

They'd found her in Mexico. Opium addicted, nearly catatonic, living in a closet sized room with six other girls, the prides and joys of a dirty little brothel. He'd seen a lot in his years on the task force put together to put an end to white slavery on the black market. He'd seen people torn to shreds and put back together again. He'd seen girls, so young they'd still carried teddy bears, murdered by the john of the day. He'd helped rescue a few, but in all his years, he'd never seen anything like this.

Veronica Mars. A deceased high school girl turning up years after her death, sold into slavery. They'd had her in custody, in a hospital in Los Angeles for three months. The irony of the fact she'd been found on her twenty-first birthday not lost on him. She'd been going through the rehabilitation program, the doctors slowly weaning her off the opium.

Staring at the phone, Steven sighed once more. This was definitely the part of his job he hated. Talking to the families, or talking to the family's answering machines, as the case was this time. How do you inform a father that his precious, deceased, teenaged daughter was actually alive? Catatonic, drug addicted, diseased, forced into prostitution, probably broken beyond repair, but alive.

The training at Quantico had never touched on these issues. They'd never had a case like this before. A ground breaking case, he'd been told. Twelve American citizens recovered years after they'd been abducted. They'd all been located, all found the homes they'd belonged to before they'd been taken, all but Veronica. Her finger prints had been damaged, repeated scarring had worn away the grooves. No dental records existed, none that they'd been able to find. The anniversary of the execution of one Aaron Echolls had been the ending to the sad story. A nurse at the hospital had recognized the blonde on the television screen, the one that had caught Aaron and had nearly died trying to get the evidence to the police. Veronica Mars.

His superiors hadn't been kidding, even if they hadn't known how ground breaking. The publicity alone at finding Veronica Mars alive was going to make his career.

He sighed, exhausted, but he'd promised her that morning. Not that she'd acknowledged his promise, but he had told her, given her his word and he was going to keep it.

It was time to visit Veronica Mars.

Switching his phone over, forwarding his calls to his cell, he set out for the hospital. She'd be sitting by the window. Translucent and pale, blue veins showing under her parchment paper skin, brittle bones poking out at large angles.

The hospital staff had been having difficulties getting her to eat. She'd lost more weight. The detox, the stress on her system, the unfamiliar surroundings all contributing to the steady decline of Veronica Mars. When he'd heard, heard of the problems the hospital was having, he'd stopped by one evening after his shift, wanting to talk to her, wanting to see how far down she'd gone.

She'd been pale and beautiful sitting in the evening glow, staring out the window. She hadn't acknowledged his presence, hadn't in the months he'd been visiting her. Veronica looked intently out the window, occasionally scratching at the scabs in the crooks of her elbows, but she didn't speak. She hadn't since she'd been found.

Steven held out hope that this day, the next day, the day after, would be the day that would change everything. The day she'd turn and scream, yell, rage against what had been done to her. Something to show that she wasn't totally broken on the inside.

He found her where he'd predicted. Sitting in the straight backed chair beside the window in her room, mesmerized by the streetlights, the stars, the nothing beyond the window. If it was possible, she was even more still, silent, than she usually was. The air of understanding, acknowledgment that floated around her on his visits was gone.

"Veronica Mars," he spoke into the tomb like silence of her room, wanting her attention. She didn't turn away from the window to look at him. She didn't nod her head, or move her arm. She didn't give so much as a twitch, but he knew. He could feel her attention shifting, focusing on him, her curiosity piqued. "Your name is Veronica Mars." The room fairly vibrated with tension, and for the first time, since the moment he'd laid eyes on her, Veronica Mars physically acknowledged him.

She turned to stare at him with her empty eyes, her blank face. She turned to stare at him.

Veronica Mars had turned in her chair, by herself, without being asked too.

If he hadn't been sure of who she was before, that movement would have convinced him. One simple movement, and the world tilted, shifted, slid on its axis. He'd found Veronica Mars, the only survivor of the tragic Neptune Bus Crash.

His phone started to vibrate in his pocket, startling him. Veronica turned back towards the window as Steven looked at the caller I.D. Keith Mars was returning his call.

"Greene." The small snicker at the end of the line made him pause for a moment.

"Blue." Keith laughed at the confused silence at the other end of the phone line. "I'm kidding, Agent Greene. It's been an odd ball of a day and I'm a little hyper at the moment." Keith explained. "You called about Veronica?" Keith's tone took on a darker note, one that clearly translated through the phone lines. He knew they'd found Veronica, but Steven could tell, Keith was expecting to get his daughter back in a body bag.

Steven hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to continue. "Yes, Mr. Mars, I called about Veronica." Steven watched as the corner of Veronica's eye twitched, her whole body tense and alert.

"Call me Keith. Mr. Mars is a little too formal for what we're discussing." Keith's voice had softened, breathing deep and even, like he was trying to keep himself calm. "Where was she found?" He asked quietly, unsure of exactly what to say. Keith Mars was at a loss for words. He'd convinced himself to not hope that maybe, someday, they'd find her body, that he could lay her to rest properly. The deep fear of never knowing where his daughter's body went, now became the fear of knowing too much.

"Mr. Mars, I mean, Keith," Steven was getting flustered. The more he watched Veronica reacting for the first time in months, the more he wasn't quite sure what to say. "Keith, we found Veronica." Taking a deep breath Steven listened as Keith chuckled tensely. Dark humor lacing the sound.

"I gathered that. I'm asking _where_ you found her." Keith's voice, tone, was still soft. Keith Mars, Sheriff of Neptune California. Or at least he had been, it wasn't hard to see why he'd been re-elected half a dozen times. He was definitely a people person.

"Ensenada," Steven breathed out, finally finding the courage. "Mr. Mars, Veronica Mars, your daughter was located in Ensenada, Mexico." Steven listened to the silence on the other end of the phone. "She's currently in a treatment facility, in Los Angeles." Still more silence. "Keith? Mr. Mars? Are you still there?" Sometimes Steven hated his job, hated this part most of all.

"She's… she's alive?" Keith breathed out, barely able to stand on his own two feet.

"She's alive, Keith." Steven smiled into the phone as he watched the corner of Veronica's mouth twitch. A reaction at last, more than he'd hoped for. The more he watched her, the more fascinated he became. She could convey the deepest emotions with barely a twitch of her skin, the flutter in an eyelid. Steven thought and quickly dismissed that thought. It wasn't the conveyance of emotions, it was the fact he'd spent so much time with her, trying to identify her, trying to help her. This time he'd definitely gotten in too deep.

"… which hospital in Los Angeles? Is she okay? Where has she been? Hello! Greene?" Keith's voice cut through Steven's reverie, leaving unsure of what he'd missed in the conversation.

"I'm sorry, Keith, my phone cut out, could you repeat that?" Steven improvised hastily, it wouldn't do to let the distraught father find out he'd been spacing out while staring at his nearly catatonic daughter.

"Where is she?" Keith didn't bother with the other questions. He really only needed one answered. The most important one.

"Los Angeles Cedars-Sinai. She's…" Steven hesitated again, unsure of how much detail to give out over the phone. "She's not well, Mr. Mars, she's in a treatment facility." Steven listened to the silence on the other end, waited a moment, before speaking again. "I'll send a car for you in the morning. I'll meet you at the hospital. You'll need to meet with her doctors before seeing her, to fully understand the situation." Steven tried to keep his tone sympathetic, but without conscious thought it slipped from sympathetic into downright depressing.

"Situation. What happened? Where has she been? What the fuck is going on?" Keith's cool finally broke, the tide of emotion carrying him away until he was shaking and screaming into the phone.

"I'm sorry, Sir. Veronica is currently undergoing medical treatment. I'm not exactly sure what exactly the treatment is. The doctor will be waiting for you when you get here to discuss Veronica's situation." Steven lied out right into the phone. A grieving father was always difficult to deal with, but Steven wasn't exactly sure which information to hold close to his chest and which information to let go.

"I'll be bringing someone with me," Keith said before he hung up. Steven stood still in the middle of her room, Veronica's room, staring at his phone. Keith Mars had hung up on him.

Directing his attention once more to Veronica, Steven memorized her pale features, taking in the small changes that the treatment program had wrought. She looked rested, pale, but recharged. She'd finally started sleeping through the night without nightmares. Finally started eating her own meals without being fed. Veronica had even taken a bath by herself the day before. It wasn't much, but it was progress.

Keith would be there in the morning, and then, then these impromptu visitations would be put on hold. At least until they followed the rabbit down the hole and figured out who had sold Veronica Mars to a two-bit brothel in Mexico.

Mere hours away in Neptune California, Keith Mars sat staring at his phone. Shocked, confused, unable to comprehend the conversation he'd just had. Sitting behind his desk at the Mars Investigations office, Keith couldn't tear his gaze away from the wooden surface, at the pile of papers littering the top, at the picture of Veronica that graced the corner.

Three and a half years, and they'd found Veronica, not her lifeless body. They wouldn't be shipping her home in a body bag like he'd long ago accepted. They'd found Veronica alive. Veronica was alive and in Los Angeles. Veronica was alive. In Los Angeles.

He couldn't wrap his mind around it, couldn't make sense of the information. His baby girl was alive and only a few short hours away. Only a car ride away. Shaking his head he picked up the phone.

Waiting in stunned silence while the phone rang, waiting for her to answer, Keith sighed in relief when the answering machine picked up.

"Hi, you've reached the Fennel and Mars residence, we can't come to the phone right now but if you leave a number, someone will call you back eventually." Wallace's voice cut through Keith's relief, the ache spreading through his chest.

"Hey, honey, I'm going out of town tonight, so don't expect me. I'm not sure how long I'll be, but I'll call as soon as I can," Keith spoke quickly, quietly into the phone. He wasn't sure what to tell Alicia, not yet. Not until he'd seen Veronica for himself.

Hanging up the phone he quickly dialed Logan's number. How do you tell the grieving boy, who was finally starting to move on, that the person he was grieving for wasn't dead after all?

"Logan, it's Keith. Pack a bag of clothes, we're going on a road trip." Keith waited impatiently while Logan made shocked noises and asked where they were going. "Mid-life crisis. I figure it's time to get myself a foxy stacked blonde, and you're gonna be my wing man." Keith grinned at the indignant squawk on the phone. "Trust me, I'll tell you on the way, okay?" His voice turned more somber, hesitant, really wanting Logan to trust him, but not wanting him to be terribly disappointed if it wasn't Veronica after all.

"Fine, but if Alicia comes looking for blood, it's going to be yours she gets. I'm throwing you in her path." Logan's voice came loud and clear through the line.

"I'll be there in an hour to pick you up. Be ready and watching, this is kind of a rush job." Keith deliberately kept his words obscure, not wanting Logan to pick up on the real reason behind the road trip. Hanging up without saying goodbye, Keith grabbed his overnight bag, the one he kept at the office in case he had to leave town in a hurry, like after a bail jumper.

His thoughts derailed, crashed and burned. "Veronica's alive."

Forty five minutes later found Keith outside Logan's condo complex, head resting on the steering wheel. The cool leather soothed his over heated skin. He wanted to believe, he wanted to believe that his daughter was alive, but he couldn't allow himself, not yet.

He wasn't sure what to tell Logan, how to tell Logan. How do you slip something like this into the conversation? '_Hey, So how about those Padres? Veronica's alive. I think they're going to take the pennant this year._' There was no easy way to say it. No easy way to tell him. Keith thought about it, struggled with the decision. Maybe he shouldn't tell him, not until he knew for sure. There was no reason to get his hopes up, no reason to break his heart all over again, not until Keith knew for sure.

Logan slipped into the blazer, throwing his bag in the back. Smiling tentatively at Keith, he spoke into the silence of the car. "They've found her, haven't they?" Trust Logan to skip to the heart of the matter. Over the past three years they'd gotten to know each other pretty well. Logan working at the office had solidified that knowledge. Bonded by grief and loss, they'd become close, sometimes too close. Able to read each other's moods without giving it much thought beforehand.

"They think they have." Keith's voice was sad, despondent. He couldn't allow himself to believe. "They think they have, she's at a hospital in Los Angeles." The silence in the car was deafening. So much for not telling Logan.

"Keith?" Logan questioned quietly, the desperation in his voice thick and sad in the vehicle.

"The F.B.I. phoned me. They think they've found Veronica," Keith repeated, believing more, every time he spoke the words. "Veronica's alive," he repeated again, the tears streaming down his face. "Veronica's alive." Keith turned towards Logan, unable to see him through the haze of tears, mouth twisted in a grimace. "Veronica's alive."

Logan placed his hands gently on Keith's shoulders, sliding closer to pull the older man into a hug. He wasn't sure what to do. Wasn't sure how to… how to comfort Keith Mars, super-dad extraordinaire. Keith kept whispering, over and over, '_Veronica's alive,_' into the front of Logan's t-shirt.

Veronica Mars was alive. In Los Angeles. Veronica Mars… was alive in Los Angeles.

Logan let the emotion sweep over him, allowed himself to cry. Veronica Mars was alive in Los Angeles.

Pulling away, he swiped at his face with the backs of his hands. "Let's go. Drive. Better yet, let me drive." Logan tried to joke, but it fell flat in the thickness of the air in the blazer.

Keith tried to pull himself together, tried to remember that he wasn't supposed to hope. He started the vehicle, putting it in gear and pulling out of the parking lot. Heading towards his daughter, heading towards hope.

He'd given up. A year of looking for her and he'd given up. The day Veronica had been declared legally dead, Keith had gone out, gotten drunk, and given up any hope of finding her alive. The guilt was eating him alive. He should have kept looking for her, he should have looked harder. He should have known a simple thing like a bus crash wouldn't have ended his daughter's life.

The images flashed behind his eyes, as he tried to picture how Veronica had ended up in Mexico. How she'd ended up dead, when really, she was only hours away. He imagined her running away, tired and miserable over the trial of the century, being hounded by reporters. She'd had enough of his heavy-handed scare tactics, her boyfriend tried to pressure her into something more. Keith glanced at Logan, staring blankly out the window. That one definitely wasn't right.

She'd been swept out to sea, just like the search and rescue team had hypothesized. She'd been swept out to sea and had been picked up by a fishing boat. Veronica had bumped her head when she was pulled out of the bus, amnesia. There was no way she wouldn't have come home, no way unless…

Someone else had found her, brought her to Mexico. They'd fished her out of the cold frigid water, pulling her waterlogged body out, and taking her to Mexico. They hadn't let her come home, they hadn't let her phone, they'd kept her a secret for nearly four years. Four years in Mexico as someone's prisoner.

The images played over and over in his head, nearly driving him crazy. If she'd been able to, she would have come home. She would have called. Veronica would not run away from her problems. She was always a fighter. She didn't back down. She would have come home.

"Stop that." Logan's voice cut through Keith's vivid imaginings. Keith glanced over, taking in Logan's blank mask.

"Stop what?" Keith tried to play innocent, tried to act like he hadn't just been thinking of his daughter being held captive, being a prisoner against her will.

"Stop imagining whatever you're imagining. We didn't know." Logan's voice was carefully neutral, but Keith had learned to read the young man. He knew what Logan was thinking. He knew that Logan's thoughts were mirroring his own.

They were both responsible for letting her go too easily. Keith turned back towards the road. At least Logan had mourned her long after Keith himself had let her go. That was at least some consolation for Logan.

"I let her go, Logan." Keith's voice broke on Logan's name, angry desperation thick and harsh clogging his throat. "I didn't look for her." Keith wiped at his face angrily. The tears just wouldn't stop, not tonight. They drowned him, choking him, salty and bitter on his tongue.

"Neither did I." Logan's voice finally lost the numbness it had during the conversation, anger settling in its wake. "We had no reason to look for her, Keith. No reason. She's been somewhere else, only hours away from Neptune, she's been somewhere else and we didn't look for her." The tears came, went, came again, trickling down his cheeks unheeded. They weren't important, not to Logan. The tears were cleansing, a testament to the guilt that was tearing through his insides.

Logan had mourned her, had felt that if they'd only had an ending, if they'd only been able to end things naturally, he'd be able to move on, he'd be able to forget her. He'd finally gone on a date, finally tried to move on with his life. He'd forgotten, for a moment, everything that she'd meant to him. He'd wanted to have a life again.

Veronica Mars was alive, and Logan Echolls had forgotten her. Only for an instant, only for one night, but he'd forgotten to miss her.

"Stop it," Keith said, echoing Logan's earlier statement. A small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, before it quickly slipped away. "Let's wait, find out exactly what happened. There's no sense in beating ourselves up until we know…" Keith trailed off at the confusion on Logan's face. He'd been trying to placate Logan, but they both knew what would be in their heads tonight. They both knew what they were thinking.

They'd given up.

"We'll wait. But that won't stop the thoughts from tearing at us, from breaking us down until we're no good to see her. We'll be imagining the worst." Logan stared steadily at the side of Keith's face. "And between the two of us? We have pretty active imaginations." There was no humor in his voice, no laughter sparkling in his eyes.

Keith and Logan had both lived lifetimes before their time. They'd seen too much, done too much, had too many things done to them. They knew what the real world held, the types of people that swam the dark ocean and preyed on people smaller than themselves. They knew, understood, couldn't fathom, what they'd be facing at the hospital.

"It can't be worse than what we're imagining," Keith mused out loud, unsure of the truth to his statement, and if he actually believed it.

"No. It could be much worse," Logan murmured, before turning back towards the window, staring out into the inky blackness beyond the glass.

The night sky was lit with stars, twinkling brightly, wavering in and out of Logan's field of vision. They were like Veronica had been. Constant, there, even when he hadn't wanted her to be. Nothing should be that beautiful, not when there were so many things that could have befallen Veronica in her years away from Neptune. The stars didn't deserve to shine that brightly, that beautifully, not when they were suffering down here.

Logan believed, in his infinite cynicism, that it was a cruel cosmic joke. Make something so beautiful, then tear it all away.

He wanted to breathe, to breathe and be still, to sit motionless on the way to Los Angeles. He wanted to remember everything he'd loved about her, replaying the memories in his mind, until they drove him mad with the absurdity of it all. He wanted to remember Veronica the way she was, before he saw her the way she was now.

Absolute certainty flooded his system. The things that had happened to Veronica in her time away from him, they were worse, worse than anything either Keith or himself could imagine. They'd have had to be. Veronica Mars was not a quitter, she wouldn't have run away, she wouldn't have walked away without a backward glance. The girl was fearless, indestructible. Logan should know, he'd tried to destroy her often enough.

Veronica was loyal to the end, she always had been. She'd stood by Lilly, even after Lilly's own death. She'd stood behind Lilly, even after finding out the truth. Lilly Kane had slept with her boyfriend's father. Lilly Kane had slept with the leader of a biker gang. Lilly Kane was not who everyone thought she was. She was cold, bitter, cynical, and convinced that the world was her playground. Lilly Kane was nothing like Veronica's best friend, not the real Lilly Kane. Still, Veronica stood her ground, because Veronica loved Lilly, and Lilly, Lilly loved herself.

Shaking himself from the dark thoughts that had taken over his mind, Logan looked toward the horizon, seeing the faint pinking of the sky, the first sign that sunrise was fast approaching. They'd been driving for a couple of hours, or at least, Keith had been driving and Logan had been brooding silently.

Glancing over at Keith, Logan saw that he wasn't the only one that had been brooding. The dark scowl marring Keith's face was just a tiny bit frightening. Logan took a moment to observe Keith, without being noticed. It wasn't very often he got to see the unprotected side of Keith Mars. The man had been locked up tighter than a drum since the day he'd received a phone call from the Village Idiot. Lamb had been smug, unconcerned with the fact he was relaying this type of information to Keith Mars. Keith, in the following weeks, needed something to take his mind off Veronica. Something to occupy him.

He'd been thoroughly occupied by Donald Lamb. Logan grinned at the memory of Keith's announcement. Running for Sheriff, he'd said, sadness staining his face, someone has to figure out what happened.

Logan had crawled out of the bottle long enough to lend his support. Lamb had won by a very small margin, the smear campaign he'd organized doing a nice little number on Keith's popularity.

The following year, an emergency recall election had taken place, when Sheriff Lamb was caught in bed with a sixteen year old girl. Not just any girl, but the Manning's youngest daughter, Grace. That had been a scandal and a half. Keith, supposedly, as he'd told Logan, had refused the job at first, but the city had begged. He'd only been in office for a few months when he handed in his resignation.

Too much corruption, too much pressure, too much politics. Alicia had been relieved, Wallace had been baffled, and Logan, well he'd been unsurprised. The heart had gone out of Keith when Veronica had died. When they'd thought she'd died. The fact that he'd been unable to protect her, unable to save her this time, it had taken all the fight out of him.

Aaron Echolls had nearly burned Veronica alive, trapped in a freezer, screaming at the top of her lungs. Logan's own father, who had also murdered his first girlfriend, had shown no remorse for his actions, laughing in maniacal glee when the announcement of Veronica's death had hit the airwaves. He'd thought he was getting off. Logan smirked, remembering how his father had requested to see him, sure of his victory now that the person who had solved the case was gone.

Logan had gone, one last time, to see his father, locked behind bars. He'd made Aaron a promise that day, a promise he kept. He'd watch Aaron die with a smile on his face. Two years after Veronica was gone, Aaron Echolls had died by lethal injection. The murder of the fabulous Lilly Kane probably wouldn't have been enough to get him the death penalty. The money trail the F.B.I. had tracked back, the same money trail that lead from the common thugs that had planted the bomb on the bus straight to Aaron, was enough to guarantee his demise.

The headlines had been riveting. Action movie star, Aaron Echolls, plotted, planned, hired common thugs, murdered eight innocent students of Neptune High, specifically to kill off the only witness in his murder trial. The press had hounded Logan, Keith riding to his rescue, as the story had heated up. His father had killed Logan's first girlfriend, had attempted to kill Veronica, and had actually managed to do it the second time.

Pieces fell into place, tying together, a string of pearls that connected, and all strands led back to Veronica. The money trail had lead straight to Aaron, the money trail that had been traced to the bombing of the bus. Veronica was alive and the money trail led straight back to Aaron Echolls.

"Keith?" Logan spoke hesitantly, unsure of the theory that was brewing in his head. "They money trail… it leads back, we know that. But why? If Veronica wasn't on the bus… Why wasn't she on the bus? Could he have known she wasn't on the bus?" He let the question hang for a moment, before finishing his thought. "How could he… unless he planned it all." Logan stopped in horror glancing over at Keith's stoic face. "The money trail… he planned it all." He voiced the thought, knowing it was right as soon as the words left his mouth. Aaron Echolls had known Veronica was alive. His own father had… Logan stopped abruptly, knowing to continue, was a guarantee that he'd lose control.

"I thought about that." Keith's soft voice cut through Logan's thoughts. Logan turned back to Keith, staring at his face for a moment before once again, hesitantly continuing.

"He said he'd make her pay." The words were harsh, like nails on a chalk board, cutting right through to the heart of the matter. "He said we'd all pay for trying to pin Lilly's murder on him." Logan heaved a sigh, anger, desperation, bitterness clawing through him until he was torn to pieces on the inside.

"Let's not think about it, at least until we talk to Agent Greene," Keith stated, the anger in his own voice clear enough for Logan to hear.

"Agent Greene?" Logan questioned, voice still painted black with anger.

"The agent that phoned me to tell me about Veronica. We'll be meeting him at the hospital." Keith thought for a moment before amending himself, "Or at least we were supposed to be meeting him at the hospital. He was sending a car in the morning, but by the time the car gets to the house, we'll already be there."

"Better phone him, let him know we jumped the gun." A brief smile crossed Logan's face, but it was gone all too quickly.

"We should be there in about an hour, I'll phone when we get closer." Keith turned back to the road, white knuckled fists gripping the steering wheel. Wishing that he could resurrect Aaron Echolls and slide the needle into Aaron's arm himself this time. Keith backtracked that thought. It wasn't enough, the humane lethal injection wasn't enough. He wanted to bring Aaron back so he could maim his movie star face, wanted Aaron to bear the scars of Keith's revenge for the rest of his life. He didn't want Aaron to die, he wanted him to suffer.

More puzzle pieces fell into place, without facts, without evidence. Keith felt the hunch grow, expanding within him, taking over all sense of reason. He knew, without a doubt, that Aaron Echolls had something to do with Veronica disappearing. Keith knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, if this was true, if he found out that Aaron had tortured his baby girl, that had Aaron been alive, Keith would have killed him. Keith was positive, sure, absolutely certain, that the Veronica that was in a hospital room in Los Angeles wouldn't be the daughter that had left home to go on a field trip years before.

She couldn't be. She wouldn't be. But he had to hope, he had to hope that something of his bad-ass action figure daughter remained. Whatever she'd been through, whatever had been done to her, without her spunk, she might not survive. Keith knew he couldn't endure losing her again.

Glancing at Logan once more, taking in his intent gaze out the window, Keith corrected himself, quietly, in his own head. Logan would follow her this time. It had been a close thing before, Logan being the drama queen he was wont to be. He'd stood on the edge of the Coronado bridge, drunk, stumbling, standing on the precipice looking down, barely caring that a small gust of wind, a slip of the foot, would send him plummeting to his death. Keith had a two o'clock phone call from Leo D'Amato, telling him where Logan was, what he was doing, and his state of public drunkenness.

Nearly falling out of bed in his haste to go and rescue a drunken Logan, Keith had tripped, breaking two toes on the bedside table. Driving had been a chore, the broken toes throbbing every time he put his foot on the accelerator. Logan hadn't appreciated the gesture. Sobbing into the night, still standing on the ledge, whisky flask clutched firmly in his hand, Logan had wanted to die. It was plain to Keith, the look on his face making Keith stand up hesitantly, limping towards him, wanting to pull him back from the edge. He hadn't been able to save Veronica, but maybe he would be able to save Logan.

They'd ended up sobbing together on the ground on the side of the Coronado Bridge. Tears and recriminations being let out into the cool night air. They'd lost something, gained something, tore each other to pieces. But Logan had survived, he'd gone on to live another day. Keith saw it, every time he looked Logan in the eye, that desperate need to end it all.

If it wasn't Veronica, if it was, this could very well be the last straw.

_**The Countdown**_

**Three**

_They were standing in his living room; the paparazzi had driven them indoors for the day. School had started two weeks before and Veronica had been working non-stop at the Hut all summer. They'd barely seen each other. Driven apart by the reporters, the trial of the century, Veronica's hectic schedule. Today was their day to spend some quality time together._

_Veronica twirled in a small circle, arms spread wide as she smiled. "Ah! Blessed privacy!" Turning to face Logan she smiled wider. "So, Mr. Echolls, what shall we do with all this privacy?" She giggled as a heated look flitted across Logan's face._

"_We could hold hands on the couch and watch movies," Logan snarked, stalking towards her, "Or we could do something a whole lot more interesting." Swooping down on her, he scooped the wildly laughing Veronica into his arms, swinging her widely, before collapsing back on the couch, still clutching her tightly in his arms._

"_Interesting, you say? Tell me more of this 'interesting,'" Veronica smirked, placing a chaste kiss on the corner of Logan's mouth._

_Logan threaded his fingers through her silken blonde hair, tugging lightly to tilt her head back, lifting her face to him. Staring intently into her eyes, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead, each cheek, her eyelids, before gently pressing their lips together, lightly tracing the soft contours of her mouth with his tongue._

"_Mm… interesting." Veronica's lips turned up at the corners, smiling as she kissed him._

"_Interesting? I'll show you interesting." Logan stood, keeping her in his arms. He waited as Veronica adjusted herself, wrapping her legs around him. He kissed her again, but this time, there was nothing soft about it. He devoured her mouth hungrily, with biting kisses, hard kisses, eating at her mouth with all the pent up aggression he'd had to bottle up during the summer._

_Carrying her up the stairs, slowly, not wanting to trip with the precious burden in his arms, Logan moved towards his bedroom. His foot connected with the door sending it flying into the wall. Loosening his hold, he let her slip down his body to the floor, following her mouth as she moved further away from him. _

_Rough hands drawn of their own accord to the hem of her t-shirt, pulling it up, breaking the kiss only long enough to draw it over her head. Her hands were urgent as she yanked at his clothing, dragging herself away from his mouth to tug at his shirt, laughing when he groaned and pulled it off quickly._

_Veronica was impatient, hands going immediately to the button on his jeans. She glanced up from under her lashes, giving Logan a shy glance as she undid his zipper, the sound loud in the quiet room. Her breath hitched, caught in her throat, at the passion reflected in his gaze. Logan looked at her with love, heat, lust, filling his eyes._

"_You sure?" Logan couldn't help but question. They hadn't gone this far, never been naked together. He had to be absolutely certain that she knew what she was doing. _

"_You promised me_ interesting_." Veronica smiled coquettishly, moving closer to flick a tongue across his nipple. She grinned as Logan's head snapped back, a groan torn from his throat._

"_Interesting it is, my lady." Logan picked her up quickly, chuckling evilly when she squealed. He kissed her roughly on the mouth, tongue flicking out quickly, before he launched her into the air, towards the bed._

"_Logan!" Veronica squealed, air wooshing out of her in a soft huff as she hit the soft mattress, bouncing once before settling. The look on her face was priceless, making Logan laugh harder._

_His hands moved to the top of his jeans as he stared into her eyes. Watching her reaction as his pants slid slowly down his legs, boxers following in their wake. Her skin flushed, petals of color unfolding across her cheeks as she watched. Logan stood naked, hard, in front of her, and Veronica's breath caught in her throat._

"_Breathe, Veronica," Logan commanded, smirking when she followed direction, breath panting out as she remembered that oxygen was essential to being alive._

"_Damn," was all she could say. She looked up, meeting Logan's eyes, and smirked back. "That's the extent of 'interesting?'" She laughed at the look of mock outrage on Logan's face. _

_Deciding to turn the tables, Veronica sat up, hands going behind her to unhook her bra, fingers sliding on the satiny fabric. "Little help here?" she whispered, watching the fire blaze in his eyes._

_Logan moved as if in a daze, walking towards her, calloused fingers sliding over her sensitive skin, watching the goosebumps he left in his wake. He brought their mouths together again, as he caught the clasp of her bra, sliding the straps off her shoulders, down her arms. He consumed her mouth as her breasts were revealed, hands sliding up to cup the underside. _

_Pulling away, he looked down, mouth watering at the flesh before him. Meeting her eyes, he slid slowly down the bed, the rough feel of her pants scraping against his legs as he moved. He flicked his tongue out, slick against her nipple, moaning as it hardened immediately, a firm bud poking at his tongue._

_Veronica whimpered, arching against his mouth, fingers scrabbling in his hair, searching for purchase. She gripped, tugged, drawing him firmer against her breast._

"_Veronica," Logan sighed, teeth catching on her nipple, as she tugged harder against his hair._

_He couldn't wait anymore. The next time could be gentle, slow, but he had to be inside her. Shaking his head at his own thoughts, Logan took a deep calming breath. The first time had to be special, perfect, slow and agonizing. He closed his eyes and gained control of himself._

"_I'm sorry," he whispered against her breast, placing soft kisses across her trembling flesh, trailing down across her abdomen. His tongue slipped into her bellybutton, once, twice, before he moved further down the bed. Hands catching the elastic of her capris he pulled, making sure to take her panties with them. He slid his hands down, slowly, over her shaking thighs, as the smell of her arousal hit the air. Logan had to drop his head. Pressing his forehead against her thigh, he breathed her in, the scent strong on his tongue. "Veronica…" Logan questioned quietly, looking up and meeting her eyes, wanting permission._

"_Yes…" Veronica gasped out, eyes tightly closed, the feel of his breath whispering over her tingling flesh was driving her insane. "Yes," she said again, opening her eyes to meet his gaze, nodding once, before she groaned loudly at the feel of his fingers sliding against her slick folds._

_Turning his eyes back down, he stared at her swollen entrance. Veronica was wet, her desire obvious, as her hips arched into his touch, towards his face. Logan bent his head, tongue swiping against her clit, hard, fast, strong, as he pushed one long finger inside her._

"_I don't think I can wait Veronica." Logan's voice was husky, the vibrations against her clit made her gasp, moan, clutch at his hair. _

"_Interesting." Veronica gasped, arching as he sucked the little piece of flesh into his mouth, teeth scraping lightly over it. "You promised me interesting." She breathed as he worked his finger inside her, bending, twisting, wetness sliding down into his palm. Veronica's arm flung out, slapping against the bedside table as Logan continued to work her. She finally managed to get the drawer open, fingers scrabbling inside as she searched for a condom. Grabbing the long string, she flung them at his head, back arching as he hit a spot inside her, the one that was making lights flash behind her closed eyelids._

_Logan grabbed the condoms with his free hand, bringing the edge of the top one up to his mouth, teeth tearing into the little foil packet. He worked his finger inside her, even as he struggled to put the condom on one handed. Finally, finally he was ready, finally he would be…_

_The thought cut off as he removed his finger, her moan of loss making him harder, he placed the head of his cock at her entrance and pushed slightly. "You're so tight, let me in." Logan groaned as she resisted, the strong muscles of her pussy, clenching, denying him access. Leaning forward, he kissed her viciously, as he began to slide inside. One precious inch at a time._

"_Logan," His name was torn from her lips as the air left her lungs in a giant gulping sob, hips moving to meet the steady pressure of him sinking inside her. "Logan," she breathed when he bottomed out. Her eyes were bright, misty, shiny with tears as she stared up at him._

"_Veronica," he mocked, smiling, grinning when he started to pull out and her muscles clenched around him, trying to keep him inside her. _

_They tangled together, pushing, fighting, rolling across the bed as they made love, screwed, fucked, for the first time. He couldn't remember laughing during sex before, but they joked, she threatened, he withheld, and they laughed so hard they were gasping and crying at the same time._

_Logan went over the edge with a soft sigh, disappointed that she hadn't followed him. Staying buried to the hilt inside her, he placed a soft finger against her clit, stroked, rubbed, pinched, until he could feel her gentle spasms around his penis. Veronica didn't make a sound as she flew into oblivion, head thrown back, fingers clutching and releasing on his shoulders._

"_Interesting enough for you, Sugarpuss?" Logan questioned sweetly when he could breathe again._

"_Not really." Logan glared at her, causing Veronica to laugh. "Practice makes perfect, wanna try again?" She smiled when he groaned._

"_Give a man at least a five minute recovery time! I'm not made of steel, you know," Logan snarked, laughing at the predatory look in Veronica's eyes._

_Her hand slid down, over his already hardening cock, holding the end of the condom as she slid it off, tying it neatly in a knot as she grinned at him. "I don't know… you feel pretty steely to me." She laughed as Logan closed his eyes, throwing an arm over his face._

"_Give me five minutes, then we'll see if we can work on steely." _

_Two hours later they were ensconced on the couch watching Dirty Dancing. Neither had bothered with putting all of their clothing back on, Logan sitting comfortably in his boxers, Veronica in the t-shirt Logan had been wearing earlier and a blanket thrown over their laps._

"_I just don't understand why you like this movie," Veronica complained, pressing closer to Logan's side._

"_Come on! How can you not like this movie? I mean it's Patrick Swayze!" Logan enthused, laughing at Veronica's raised eyebrow. "Okay, it's total cheese, but everyone needs a little dairy in their diet." Grinning at Veronica's groan, he pulled her closer, nuzzling into her neck. _

"_Sometimes, you are so strange," Veronica muttered, laughing when Logan tried to bite her. "Stop that and watch the movie, you big baby." Slapping lightly at him, she settled back against the couch, Logan warm at her side, curled around her._

"_But I don't wanna watch the movie," Logan fake whined into her skin. His tongue flicked out to trace the pulse point below her ear. "I want to do something far more interesting." Smiling tenderly at her soft chuckle, Logan pressed a firmer kiss against the tender flesh._

"_We're back to interesting?" Veronica questioned, brow arched._

"_Yep, I'm just an interesting kind of guy." Logan smirked, pulling away to look into her laughing eyes. _

"_Ah, Sugarpuss, that you are," Veronica smirked before putting a little distance between them. "But we're going to finish the movie since you made me watch it." Her small smirk turned into a full fledged grin at his groan of dismay. "Hey, mister, you made your bed, now you have to lay in it." _

"_That's what I'm trying to do, but you won't let me." Logan laughed as Veronica rolled her eyes, once more snuggling closer._

_Three hours later, the sun had set, they'd ordered food, they'd made love on various surfaces throughout the house, and fucked on the bathroom floor. Both were comfortably relaxing in the afterglow, at least, that's what they told themselves. If they were honest they were too exhausted to do anything other than snuggle companionably. _

"_You know that field trip we have on Tuesday? The one to the baseball field?" Logan asked hesitantly, unsure of exactly how he should broach the question._

"_You mean the one you're going to skip, because you hate baseball?" Veronica questioned lightly, placing a soft kiss to Logan's nipple._

"_Yep, that would be the one." Smirking slightly, Logan rolled towards her, pulling her closer into a half hug._

"_What about it?" Veronica kept her tone neutral, well aware of why he was skipping the school outing. The field trip fell the day after Logan gave his deposition; the statement concerning the abuse he'd suffered at his father's hand. Logan had been worried about finally telling someone, finally admitting to the abuse he'd suffered for years. Veronica had assumed over a week ago that Logan wouldn't be going on the field trip the day after. He'd go to Mexico, or stay home and play video games, hell, he might even go surfing. It really didn't matter what he did, as long as he was alone to do it. Veronica actually understood the alone thing a little more than people gave her credit for. _

_She was a runner after all._

"_You sure you don't mind me skipping? I mean, I'll go with you, if you need a bus buddy or something. I'd hate to think of my girl sitting all alone at the back of the bus." Smirking slightly, humor dancing in his eyes. _

"_Right. Cause I'm such a girl I can't sit alone for a thirty minute bus ride." Rolling her eyes, she patted lightly at his chest. "You skip, I won't rat you out. Just make sure you're there to pick me up after the trip." She smirked at Logan's confused expression. "Date night? You forgot!" She exclaimed loudly, acting offended._

"_Date night? Did you mention this before?" Logan was trying to puzzle it out, he couldn't remember her saying anything about a date night, but his mind had been elsewhere lately. _

"_Only about twenty times. Dad's out of town doing another interview," Veronica squinted her eyes, then smiled indulgently at the thought of her father. "We were going to go to the movies, maybe do some cuddling on the couch…" She paused, placing a soft kiss on his collar bone, "Maybe something a little more interesting." She grinned when Logan chuckled._

"_Right. I'll be going on that field trip, no waiting that way." Smirking when she lightly hit his side._

"_Nope, it's your skip day. You'll be meeting me at seven thirty outside the school like a good little boyfriend." Veronica couldn't contain the yawn that overtook her, a jaw popping wide yawn._

"_Little? Little?" Logan asked offended. "Do you need another demonstration?" Rolling quickly on top of her, his fingers crooked, he began to tickle her. Beneath her arms, her sides, anywhere he could reach, until she was thrashing under him. His body perked up, paid attention, rock hard and strong at the wiggle of her hips against his rigid cock._

_Veronica's laughter died slowly, the heat taking over her gaze. Grabbing Logan's shoulders, she flipped them quickly, her wetness sliding against his abdomen. "That wasn't very nice." Leaning forward she flicked her tongue out, licking at the seam of his lips. Laughing and pulling back when Logan tried to deepen the kiss. "Uh uh, good boys get treats." She tapped him lightly on the nose. Chuckling at his outraged look. _

_Pressing forward, she kissed him, deep, long, teeth biting, tongue slick and sliding against his. She ate his breath, stole his soul, devoured him whole with just the touch of her lips. "Condom," she mumbled into his mouth, pulling back slowly, waiting for him to fumble around the bed, fingers searching for the strand of foil packages._

_Minutes, seconds, nanoseconds later, he was buried inside her. They stared, eyes glazed, unable to look away from each other. Veronica circled her hips, sliding up slowly, before slickly sliding back down. They ground against each other, not working towards the end, trying to prolong the moment._

_Veronica's fingers clutched at Logan's shoulders, mouth hanging open slightly, as she moved. The pace was slow and steady, barely there, gliding of her hips against his. They were both content, for now, to let the moment play soft and gentle._

"_I love you, Veronica," Logan mumbled on a gasp, as her pelvis surged. _

"_The things guys will say to hit a home run," Veronica breathed out, leaning forward to kiss him again. The kiss was gentle, telling him, showing him everything she couldn't say._

"_Wait." He paused dramatically, thrusting his hips up sharply, pulling a quick breathless gasp from her throat before continuing, "I'm not already hitting the home run? I'll have to try harder." He punctuated the last word by grabbing her shoulders and flipping her over quickly, slamming harshly against her. _

_Fingers gripping hard, bruising her shoulders, he pulled her closer, tighter against him, not giving her room to move. He pushed, thrust, arched against her, over and over, slamming into her with all of his strength. He smiled into her neck, tucking his head beneath her ear to get better leverage, using her own body against her. _

"_I love you, Veronica Mars," he panted against her skin, whispering it, painting it across her sweaty flesh, willing her to believe, to reciprocate._

"_Fuck!" Veronica cried and she flew apart, bent backwards, held still by his body over hers. "Fuck," she whispered softly as she felt him jerk once, twice, three times inside her._

"_Fuck is right." Logan's voice was hoarse, thick and dry from breathing so heavily. "There's a drive hit deep to center field... This ball's got a chance... ... ... IT'S GONE!" Logan made cheering noises from a large crowd, snickering when Veronica punched his shoulder lightly._

"_Get off me, you idiot," she snarked, pushing at his heavy body._

"_Oh come on, Veronica!" He snuggled deeper, feeling his cock begin to harden. "If I stay right here, in about five minutes I'll have to change the condom and we can see if we can hit another grand slam." Placing a soft kiss beneath her ear, Logan didn't bother waiting for her response, hand going down to pull the condom off. Tying it off quickly, he aimed for the garbage can on the otherside of the room and missed._

"_Ew! That's disgusting!" Veronica's loud voice made Logan laugh. Sometimes, once in awhile his twisted bitter girl, sounded like the sweet and innocent Veronica he'd known before Lilly died. It didn't happen often, but with the progression of their relationship, he got to see it more often._

"_I'll pick it up." He paused, considering, "As soon as I can walk."_

**Two**

_Logan had picked Veronica up that morning, smiling, laughing, joking about the things he was going to do that day. September 13th, 2005. A beautiful Tuesday, too beautiful to spend on a crowded bus with people they could barely stand._

"_I might head down to Mexico, see if I can find a really hot stripper to give me a lap dance." Logan smirked at Veronica's cry of outrage._

"_Only if you want to end up dating her," Veronica snarked, laughing easily at the look of consideration on Logan's face. "Also remember, the whole bong in your locker incident." She gave him an evil look, raised eyebrow, only one corner of her mouth turned up._

"_Oh. Right. No lap dances." Logan shuddered visibly. "I'm probably just going to go surfing up at Gold Coast, the waves are supposed to be really coming in today. Some storm from a third world country making for lovely surfing for us fortunate Americans." The look of childlike glee in his eyes had Veronica smiling indulgently at him._

"_Just remember, I'll be back at the school at seven thirty. You'll be here, we'll go grab a quick bite to eat, the movie starts at nine, and we're set." She laughed at his groan of frustration._

"_Can we skip the food and movie and go straight to the interesting?" he asked hopefully, voice filled with heat._

_Veronica patted him lightly on the arm, condescending. "Strangers on a Train, Logan." Grinning when Logan sighed in resignation._

"_Tell me again. Why do I have to sit through a black and white Alfred Hitchcock movie?" He whined slightly, but he'd already given up the fight._

"_Because you love me," she paused, smirking, "and because you love the damn movie as much as I do." _

_Logan groaned, rolling his head back against the seat, turning his eyes towards her. "You better make it worth my while." His voice was heavy, thick with desire and innuendo._

"_Don't I always? If you're a good boy I'll even give you a cookie." Bouncing, pretending to be perky, Veronica leaned forward to kiss Logan goodbye. _

_Bringing his hands up to cup her face, he pulled her deeper into the kiss, seeking out all of Veronica's unique flavor with his tongue. "Mm, cookies," Logan moaned when he pulled away._

"_I'll see you tonight, cookie monster." She pecked his cheek slipping easily out the door, before he could try and catch her again._

_Duncan Kane stood waiting for her by the bus. "Logan's not coming?" He asked, watching Logan drive away. _

"_Not today, Captain." Grinning at Duncan, she hugged him lightly._

"_Hey! Get your own boyfriend, Mars!" Meg's voice sounded behind them, but when Veronica turned around Meg was smiling._

"_But… he's just so cute and cuddly, like a big ol' teddy bear." Veronica poked Duncan in the side, laughing when he pretended to double over. "Logan's gone surfing. You know he hates baseball." _

"_Of course, should have known." Rolling his eyes, he held out both arms, one for Meg and one for Veronica. "Ladies? Shall I escort you both into our transportation for the day?" Laying on the fake French accent, the one that was really bad, had both girls groaning even as they each took hold of one of his arms._

"_Thank you kind sir," Veronica snarked, pushing against Duncan's shoulder and nearly knocking Meg over. Veronica's cell started vibrating inside her bag. She paused, letting go of Duncan's arm, waving both Duncan and Meg ahead of her as she searched frantically through her bag before the vibrations stopped._

_Sliding open her phone, she saw the text message from Logan._

'_Love you babe.'_

_Sometimes? Veronica knew she was definitely the boy in the relationship._

_The damn smell on the bus had driven the 09ers off, and into a limo. A cushy, posh limo, that Veronica herself had refused to get in. Dick Casablancas' father had sent it to pick up the kids, after Dick phoned him complaining about the smell on the bus. _

_Veronica sat near the back, away from the other kids, staring out the window. Ms. Dumas let everyone off the bus at a local convenience store, but Veronica took her time. She really didn't feel like socializing with the rest of the crowd. Not today. She was tired, exhausted from the verbal sparring with Dick all day. _

_Finally making her way off the bus, she fished out her phone and dialed Logan's number, wiggling her fingers as she waited for the call to connect._

"_Hey, baby." Logan's soft, soothing, low baritone came through the line loud and clear, causing a shiver to race up Veronica's spine._

"_Hey," she sighed, relieved to actually be talking to someone. "You're still meeting me at seven thirty? School parking lot?" Veronica questioned quietly, willing the day to end just a little bit quicker. _

"_Of course. I'm actually here already." Logan's smile translated loud and clear in his voice, even over the phone. _

"_It's only seven! How long have you been sitting there?" Veronica questioned, leaning against the wall outside the store. Still not wanting to socialize._

"_Only just pulled in. Didn't want to be late to pick up my girl." Logan's voice had gone even softer, sexier, and Veronica's toes curled inside her shoes._

"_Cute," she snarked, looking around to make sure she didn't miss the bus back._

"_I know I am, but it's nice of you to mention it," Logan shot back, laughing at Veronica's exasperated groan._

"_We should be there in about half an hour, give or take a little bit." She paused, considering her next words carefully before checking to make sure no one could overhear her. "We still doing interesting things tonight? Cause I could use some interesting." She stated it lowly, blushing crimson at being so bold._

"_We're definitely doing interesting things tonight." Logan paused delicately, unsure how far to push her, what questions to ask. "Was the field trip not to your liking? Someone do something? Say something?" He paused again, "Did the mayor make a pass at you?" The question was meant to be a joke, but her silence on the other end of the line made him wonder. "Veronica? Did the mayor hit on you? Cause, I'm pretty sure I'll go to jail if I beat him to a bloody pulp for macking on my girlfriend." Logan's voice was slightly worried. Veronica got quiet, they both did. They'd both been through so much that sometimes they just needed a moment to breathe. The moments came and went but usually didn't happen this quickly during a conversation._

"_It's just been a really long day. The smell on the bus is driving me nuts," Veronica muttered, turning back to look at the bus, the one that was slowly pulling away. "Look, we'll talk later, I'm gonna miss the bus." She hurried towards it, something out of the corner of her eye catching her attention. Turning slowly, she watched Lilly Kane run around the corner of the building._

"_You could have taken the limo back with Dick," Logan's voice came clear through the line, startling Veronica out of her daze._

"_Yeah, that would have gone over well. You'd have to bail me out of jail, instead of picking me up for our date. Did little Dick phone you to tattle on me?" Veronica responded waspishly. She'd put up with Dick for Logan's sake. She'd even been civil to him on occasion, but she couldn't let it go. Couldn't let what he'd done go. _

_Dick Casablancas had put her in a room specifically so that his brother could have sex with her unconscious body. Beaver may not have done it, but the intent was there. It was not something Veronica would ever forget. As the numerous pranks she'd pulled on him during the summer attested to. Dick would be paying for that little mistake for a long time to come. Veronica would make sure of it._

_Lilly let out a loud startled cry and Veronica nearly dropped the phone. Moving faster towards where Lilly had disappeared, she was practically running by the time she made it to the building._

_Without bothering to make sense of Logan's voice coming small and tinny through the phone, Veronica changed course. "I've got to run, Logan. Love you!" She practically yelled into the phone before flipping it closed, moving faster towards where Lilly had disappeared around the side of the store._

_She turned the corner, hearing Lilly scream in her head a second too late. Hands reached out of nowhere and grabbed her hair, muffled her mouth, pinched her neck. Too many hands. Veronica attempted to gasp for air but the world was growing dark. A frantic Lilly stood just inside her line of sight, screaming and pointing frantically at the ground._

_Weevil lay on his side next to the white van's tire._

_It all would have been very comical, at least it would have been, if the world hadn't blurred at the edges. _

_Lilly's tears were the last thing Veronica saw before the world went dark._

_Veronica's phone began to vibrate once more. It went unanswered as she was pulled into the white van. It went unanswered as the van pulled slowly out of the parking lot. It went unanswered as Veronica was whisked away in the opposite direction the bus had been heading._

_She woke to darkness, thick and ripe with fear. Her fear. It poured off her in waves, a sickening stench that knotted her stomach, took her breath, made her whole body shake. Veronica moved hesitantly, unsure of exactly where she was. The slick slide of cool satin on her bare skin alerted her to her state of undress. The ropes were digging into her wrists, grinding the bones together as she tried to struggle. She could feel a trickle of something cool sliding down her arms, dripping off her elbow onto the surface beneath her._

_Her mouth was dry, like the desert, but she couldn't lick her lips. The cloth shoved in her mouth tasted foul and it was too large to work free. Shifting her head from side to side, she saw a little bit of light at the edges of the darkness. A blindfold._

_Bound, gagged, blindfolded, naked. These four words became Veronica's world._

_Bound. Gagged. Blindfolded. Naked._

_Panting through her nose, the panic started to take over, crushing the air from her lungs, making her head pound, making Veronica dizzy while lying prone._

_Lilly screamed because Veronica couldn't, loud, shrill, directly in Veronica's mind. The bite of a flea, and her thoughts drifted away. Floating up and out of the room. Veronica's last thought before she lost consciousness again was..._

'_They'll be looking for me.'_

**One**

_She hadn't answered. She'd said the words, the words he'd been waiting for during the long summer together, the ones he'd finally been able to say to her, and she'd hung up on him. Then she hadn't answered the phone. Damn her and her running tendencies. When things got tough, that's what she did, she ran, needed to deal. This shouldn't have been one of those times. This should have been one of the times she stayed. She should have stayed, said it again, over and over. If it was the last thing Logan did, he'd make sure she was broken of her running habits. Sighing deeply Logan started the Xterra, driving closer to the school, closer to where the bus would pull up when it got there. He wanted to be ready and waiting for her when she returned. Leaning against his car so she could say it again. Say it to his face this time._

_Relaxing in the Xterra as he waited for Veronica, Logan replayed the conversation over and over again in his mind. She'd said the words. Slamming his fists down on the steering wheel he let out a loud whoop, punching his fist in the air. Veronica had told him she loved him. Granted, she'd hung up right after, but she'd still said it. She couldn't take it back now. _

_The vibrations of his phone pulled him out of his exultant thoughts. Hands slippery with nervous sweat, he fumbled it, nearly dropping it to the floor in his haste to get it open. Finally managing to get his hands to work, he grappled with it for a moment, not bothering to check the number._

"_Veronica?" He asked when he finally got the phone open. It was quarter after seven. He'd tried phoning her back when she'd hung up on him fifteen minutes before, but she hadn't answered her phone. Either busy getting on the bus, or having accidentally shut it off when she'd flipped it closed. _

"_It's Duncan." Duncan's voice sounded thick, overwrought, tear stricken._

"_Hey, DK. What's up?" Leaning back in his seat, Logan settled in for a long conversation. Duncan was probably having problems with Meg again. They'd broken up briefly during the summer. Right up until Meg told him she was pregnant. That had been a revelation and a half for Logan. Duncan Kane the self righteous best friend he'd had since Junior High, had knocked his girlfriend up. The Manning's weren't taking it very well either._

"_Oh god." Duncan's voice came through the line, making Logan sit up straighter in his seat._

"_What's wrong, Duncan?" Logan asked, unsure of what could cause Duncan to barely be able to speak._

"_The bus, Logan, the bus." Duncan took a deep breath, trying to quell the tears thickening his voice. Logan's heart stuttered in his chest._

"_What bus, Duncan?" he questioned quietly, fear lacing every word. _

"_The bus, it went over the cliff. It happened so quickly." Duncan sniffled and Logan could hear him wiping the tears off his face._

"_What bus, Duncan?" Logan asked again, the fear choking him. She'd hung up on him running for the bus. The bus Logan was currently refusing to believe had gone over a cliff._

"_The school bus! Veronica was on the bus when it went over the cliff," Duncan cried into the phone and Logan could hear Meg in the background crying just as hard. _

_Quickly pushing the end call button, Logan hit memory three for Mars Investigations. Keith answered on the second ring, barely getting out a hello before Logan rushed in._

"_Veronica, Mr. Mars…" He stuttered to a stop, unsure of what to say, how to continue, what to ask. _

"_What about Veronica, Logan?" Keith asked, almost jovial._

"_Duncan just phoned. Said the bus had gone over a cliff, that Veronica was on it." Logan said the words, but he didn't really believe them. She'd survived worse, the crash could have been minor, she could have gotten off, she could have missed the bus. No way something had happened to Veronica. Not her._

"_I'll phone you back." Keith hung up the phone quickly, dialing the Sheriff's department and getting a busy signal. Turning on his scanner he picked up the station frequency, tuning into Lamb's personal cruiser._

"_Nine students from Neptune High were on the bus when it went over the cliff. Search and Rescue are on their way. We need all available personnel to the…" The scanner cut off abruptly before it revealed the location of the crash._

_Keith was already moving, grabbing his coat and heading out the door towards the cliffs. He knew the route the bus would take, knew it like the back of his hand after all the games he'd been to at Shark Field. Keys trembling in his fingers, he tried to stay calm, tried not to panic. _

_Panic set in when he saw the crowd of vehicles on the side of the road, the smoke rising up from below. The sound of sirens from the water an eerie accompaniment to the sobbing teenagers clutching each other on the bluffs. Pulling off to the side of the road, Keith was out of the car in seconds running towards Lamb before he could stop himself._

_Lamb stood to the side, hands on his hips, trying to look like he was important. Keith knew better._

"_Lamb!" Keith yelled, angry, furious, wanting to know what the hell was going on._

"_Back behind the line, Keith." Lamb's voice was strangely calm, the first tip off that something was really wrong._

"_What's going on?" Keith didn't bother following directions. The only thought, strong and clear in his mind, was Veronica. Where was Veronica? Glancing to the left as he kept moving towards Lamb, Keith was brought up short by the sight of Duncan Kane and his girlfriend Meg sobbing their hearts out on each other's shoulders, tears streaming down their faces as they watched the water below. They watched the water below._

"_What's going on?" Keith asked again, once more turning to face Donald Lamb, Neptune's illustrious Sheriff._

"_Mr. Mars, I'm going to have to ask you to step back behind the line." Lamb nodded towards one of the deputies, telling him without words to escort Keith back behind the barricade. The deputy didn't get more than a couple of steps closer before Keith grabbed Lamb. _

_One hand behind Lamb's shoulder, the other forearm across his throat, and Lamb was efficiently pinned against his own cruiser, face to face with a very pissed off Keith Mars._

"_Tell me what is going on. Now," Keith bit out, spittle flying from his mouth. Pure fury burned in his eyes._

"_Bus crash, nine students, including Veronica are unaccounted for." Lamb choked out, gasping for air as Keith released him. "You're gonna regret that." Lamb stated, before once again motioning to the Deputy that had moved closer during the dispute. "Arrest him for assault of an officer." Lamb smirked slightly as two deputies closed in on Keith, snapping on the cuffs before Keith had a chance to react. "Do I need to read you the miranda or are you familiar with it by now?" Lamb asked, smirking as he turned his back on Keith. The two deputies hustled Keith into the back of the cruiser shutting him inside, blocking out his angry shouts of outrage._

"_Lamb, you fucking bastard! That's my daughter!" Keith yelled, screamed, but Lamb ignored him, leaving him staring blankly as the first body was pulled from the water._

_A rescue technician approached Lamb hours later. Keith watched their lips move as he tried to get the gist of the conversation. Donald Lamb hung his head for a moment. Keith howled in outrage. They'd given up. Only a few hours of searching and Keith knew the looks they both wore. Face mottled with rage, Keith glared as Donald glanced towards his cruiser, the sympathy clearly etched on his face._

_Twelve hours later, six students were accounted for, their bodies water logged, battered, bruised, and after the amount of time that had passed, they weren't likely to find survivors. Lamb slowly climbed into the front seat of the cruiser. "We haven't found Veronica, but we're still looking." He didn't look at Keith, but the sympathy in his tone was evident. "We're still looking, Keith."_

"_Uncuff me," Keith ground out, voice thick and hoarse from all the screaming he'd been doing._

"_Right now, you're better off in here," Lamb stated softly. He really was sympathetic. He knew, from long years of experience, what Veronica meant to Keith Mars. She was all he had left in the world, the only thing Keith cared about. Lamb had known for years, that the only thing that kept Keith Mars sane at the worst of times, was Veronica. "We'll find her, Keith," Lamb promised softly, still unable to look at him._

"_You and your magic crystal ball?" Keith questioned sarcastically, as he rattled the cuffs. "Uncuff me, Lamb." Keith stated again, teeth gritted so hard his jaw began to ache. He knew Lamb wouldn't uncuff him, he knew that Lamb was going to make him sit here until it was time to clear the scene. Hours upon hours of sitting and driving himself insane with pictures of Veronica's body, shattered on the jagged cliffs below._

_Logan had phoned at least three dozen times, Keith assumed it was Logan. Since Keith's hands were cuffed behind his back, he hadn't been able to get out his phone to see. The calls had stopped about an hour before, twenty minutes after Jake Kane had showed up to pick up his son and Meg. It didn't take a genius to figure out Duncan had phoned Logan to tell him exactly what was happening. Keith half expected to be sharing a car with Logan soon. Lamb would take great pleasure in locking the two of them up together in a small confined space. Keith was pulled out of his thoughts by Lamb answering his question. _

"_No," Donald stated softly once more, before he moved to get out of the vehicle. "We'll find her, Keith." Lamb repeated one more time before softly shutting the door behind him._

_It was a promise he had never been able to keep./_I

_Gone_

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Agent?" Dr. Benjamin Jovis asked quietly. In all his years of being a doctor, he had never even thought of treating a family so poorly. The fact that it was her family, the Jane Doe that had been recently identified, only made it worse.

The injuries the girl had received, the damage to her psyche, the things she'd endured and survived. She should have died in a backroom in Mexico. By all rights and purposes she should not be five floors up, sitting in a hospital bed, healing. Veronica Mars was one strong willed individual, even if she seemed to have lost the fight. There was something more keeping her going.

"I'm sure, Jovis. I need to see their reactions. The Echolls boy especially." Steven replied, tone quiet, trying to reassure the doctor. The agent that had been sent to get Keith had reported that Keith had already left, the evening before, driving up to L.A. with one Logan Echolls. Logan Echolls, the son of the mass murderer, Aaron Echolls. The man responsible for the bus crash.

Steven knew, from reading over Veronica's case file, the file on the bus crash, the F.B.I. file that had been compiled on the ever precocious Veronica Mars, that Logan Echolls had been Veronica's boyfriend at the time of the crash. It didn't explain why Echolls would be coming to L.A. with Keith Mars. It didn't explain Echolls' connection to the family, to the crash, to the girl lying upstairs in the hospital bed.

The last thing Steven needed was complications. Unknown factors that could tear the girl apart. Keith Mars would be an unfortunate victim in the ploy, but a necessary one. He had to gauge Echolls' reactions to Veronica's case. Had to know if, somehow, he'd been involved in what had happened to the poor girl.

Echolls was the last person to talk to Veronica. They'd been talking on the phone when she ran for the bus, hanging up on him. Logan Echolls had signed a statement to that fact, but couldn't elaborate as to anything that had happened after Veronica had hung up the phone.

Agent Steven Greene had to follow the evidence, straight down the rabbit hole into the hell Veronica Mars had endured for the past three years. All the evidence, so far, led straight back to the Echolls'.

A money trail that led back to Aaron. The last person that Veronica had spoken with before the crash was Logan Echolls.

It was all about Echolls' now.

Nodding once, Steven turned to face the doctor once more. "I'm very sure this is the only way." He stated decisively.

Steven moved towards the door, and then paced back through the room, trying to work out the details in his head. Trying to piece that day back together from the evidence he had. The evidence that an incompetent local sheriff had gathered. Donald Lamb had been an imbecile long before he'd been fired for sleeping with an under-aged girl. But the facts had been there, the evidence, all of it leading back to Aaron Echolls.

Money trail. That led straight back to the Fitzpatricks. The ones responsible for the bus crash, or so they'd thought. The evidence had been there, but had it been misleading? Danny Boyd worked construction, had free access to explosives used during the demolition of old buildings, the same explosives that had been found in the bus. Trace had proved they were taken from the same locker on the same construction site where Boyd earned his living. Daniel Boyd was a Fitzpatrick by marriage, a clear and cut case of familial connections. The bus crash could have been a cover up for the actual kidnapping of Veronica Mars. They would have needed a rather large distraction, a way to keep the authorities from knowing about the abduction for as long as possible. The bus crash would have been perfect.

Veronica wouldn't have run away, not with everything Greene knew about her. She wouldn't have taken off for parts unknown. Maybe the year before, if half the stories he'd encountered while going through his file were true. But not then, not at that time, not after the bus she'd been on was blown up. It didn't fit with the things he knew about Veronica Mars. The one thing he was sure of was that there was no such thing as coincidences. Steven's gut told him the two incidents were related, they had to be. A bus blowing up and the abduction of a young girl did not happen nearly simultaneously without some common factor.

If the Fitzpatrick family had been paid to kidnap Veronica Mars, not to blow up the bus, who had blown up the bus? Had they pulled both jobs? Had someone else blown up the bus?

Aaron Echolls had died by lethal injection. The only witness to the kidnapping that was still alive was Veronica Mars. A girl who couldn't even dress herself, most days, without assistance from a nurse.

Had someone other than Aaron Echolls paid to have Veronica Mars kidnapped? The questions overflowed in his mind, swirling around, until Steven Greene was sick with them, nauseated at the possibilities that presented themselves. Finding Veronica alive, sold into slavery, sold to a brothel for a few bucks, put a whole new spin on a case that had been solved years before.

Steven knew he had to figure it out. Had to find out what, if any, Logan Echolls' involvement was. No matter the cost.

Turning back towards the doctor, Steven could see the uncertainty on his face, the doubts. "I'm positive this is the only way, Jovis." Greene stated once more.

"I want it on record that I wasn't comfortable with this course of action. To treat the family of a survivor, a survivor of this kind of abuse, this way is completely reprehensible." Benjamin spoke quietly, firmly, meeting Stevens eyes.

"It's duly noted." Steven nodded, moving to a chair to continue to wait for Keith Mars and Logan Echolls to show up.

It was going to be a long day.

Keith pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. Taking a deep breath, he turned towards Logan, ready to wake him, when he saw that Logan wasn't sleeping. Head pressed against the window, the boy stared out into the soft late evening light, a blank expression on his face.

"Ready?" Keith questioned hesitantly. This was the second step, the first having been the drive up, but the second was the most important. In only a few minutes, they'd find out if the girl found in Mexico was actually Veronica.

The drive north had been silent, stuck in traffic. Both had gotten impatient, tempers rising as they moved behind one incompetent driver after another. Two hours into the drive had found Logan cursing out the window, and Keith cursing inside the vehicle right along with him. They'd had enough, they wanted this over, wanted to lay their fears to rest. The girl, the young girl that was identified as Veronica, was inside the hospital, waiting for them, even if she didn't know it yet.

"No." Logan said, voice tired, the exhaustion showed clearly on his face. It had been a very long night for both of them. "But let's go anyway." The sarcasm that laced his voice, Keith knew, was only to cover the nervousness the young man was feeling. The nervousness that Keith himself was feeling. This was it.

They got out of the blazer together, moving in tandem as they slowly made their way inside the hospital. Keith wasn't sure who to ask for at the desk, wasn't sure exactly what to say at all. Pondering the situation, he decided to ask for Agent Greene, whom Keith was sure would still be at the hospital. The agent didn't strike Keith as particularly stupid. Steven Greene had to have known what Keith would do, once he found out where the girl was, where Veronica was. The fact that it had been over three hours since the fateful phone call meant little. Keith, himself, would not have waited.

Air whooshed into the airlock as the door opened, blowing cool a cool breeze into their faces, taking their breaths away. Keith and Logan smiled slightly at each other, before continuing to move forward. Keith made it to the desk one step ahead of Logan.

"I'd like to speak to Agent Steven Greene, if I could please." Keith asked the harried looking woman behind the desk.

"What floor is he on?" She asked, without looking up.

"Not sure, but he's with a patient, the girl from Mexico. The Jane Doe." Keith said the words, trying not to hope that the girl was indeed Veronica. The woman's eyes snapped up, wide and uncertain. She took in Keith's rumpled appearance, the stoic looking Logan beside him, and reached for her phone.

"One second, sir. Your name, so that I can announce you?" She asked, her voice impassive, even though her eyes remained wide.

"Keith Mars and Logan Echolls." Keith stated softly. The woman dropped the phone, twice, before she managed to bring it to her ear. Apparently she'd recognized one of their names. Keith watched the twisting motions of the woman's fingers, watched her face as it twitched, watched her eyes as they glanced quickly at Logan. He nodded slowly to himself, understanding that it wasn't surprising she'd recognized the Echolls name. Swiveling in her chair, she spoke hurriedly, softly, into the phone. Too soft for the men to make out exactly what she was saying. Keith glanced at Logan and raised an eyebrow. They both knew the reception wasn't simply because of who they were. Something more was going on.

"Agent Greene will be down to meet you in a minute, Sir." The deferential tone of voice, once again, raised Keith's hackles. Something more was definitely going on.

Waiting in the lobby, hands jammed into his pockets, Keith looked around at his opulent surroundings. If he hadn't known it was a hospital, Keith would have assumed he was standing in a hotel lobby. The lifestyles of the rich and famous. Welcome to L.A.

Logan saw the man heading towards them first, nudging Keith to get his attention, and nodding in the guy's direction. There was something in the set of the man's shoulders, in the black suit, that absolutely screamed Federal Agent, at least to Logan. Logan watched as Keith moved forward, extending his hand, but Logan didn't do the same. He wasn't being rude, but, if he was honest with himself, he didn't want to touch anything, not until he knew if it was Veronica or not. If he touched something, if he made this little trip real, he'd be more disappointed when he found out it wasn't Veronica Mars.

Veronica.

Logan sighed softly, as Keith and Agent Greene shook hands.

"Keith, I thought I was sending a car for you in the morning?" Greene questioned softly, refusing to meet Keith's eyes directly.

"You were. We decided we couldn't wait. Three years of waiting was long enough." Keith stated, trying to catch the Agent's eyes, but Steven's gaze remained elusive.

"The doctor's going to meet us in the visitor's lounge with the file. I'd like you to be fully appraised of the situation before you see her. It's…" he paused for a moment, searching carefully for the right way to tell Keith about the damage Veronica was suffering through at the moment, "shocking." He finally settled on. There really wasn't any other word that would state exactly what shape Veronica Mars was in.

"Shocking?" Keith questioned, breath held as Steven finally met his eyes. The refusal to look at Keith before now made sense. There was horror in Stevens's eyes. Ghosts swam to the surface, telling Keith without words exactly how bad the damage was. "Tell me." Keith said quietly, putting a hand on Logan's arm in a show of solidarity, to glean some comfort from him.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Keith." Steven said, but then remained silent. He wasn't going to lie, but he wasn't going to tell them the truth either. He was waiting on the doctor, which was probably a smart move. Anything Steven could have said at this point would have just sent Keith and Logan into a panic.

Keith started, remembering that he hadn't introduced Logan when Agent Greene had first approached them. "Agent Greene, this is Logan Echolls." Keith didn't offer any more information, a reason why Logan was standing there beside him.

Steven Greene extended his hand, waiting for Logan to shake it in greeting. After a minute of Logan staring at Steven's hand, Steven slowly lowered it, unsure of the implications. "Nice to meet you." Logan said, voice hollow, the small tremor in the words the only indication of the raging emotions currently eating him alive.

"If you'll both follow me, I'll take you to the private visitor's room, where the doctor will be meeting us." Steven motioned with his head to the doors he'd entered through, moving quickly towards them. Keith and Logan followed at a slower pace.

"I told you it would be bad." Logan stated under his breath, gasping when Keith poked him roughly in the side.

"We'll know soon enough." Keith stated, his own voice only held together by his iron will.

Keith and Logan followed Agent Greene down a long, dimly lit hallway. Their footsteps echoed off the walls, bouncing back to them, loud in the otherwise quiet corridor. No one spoke, they all stared at the door at the end of the hall. The place was still and silent as a tomb. Logan thought it was apt, the tomb analogy, since he felt like he was digging up bones.

They pushed through the door and found a little lounge filled with couches and tables. A cozy little room, probably for giving bad news to patient's families, Logan thought cynically.

"Take a seat, the doctor should be here soon." Greene was now being solicitous, deferential, acting nothing like the Federal agents Keith had known during his Sheriff days.

Keith and Logan both declined to sit, the nervous energy coursing through their bodies, practically making them vibrate as they waited impatiently. The doctor stepped through the door minutes later, a brown file folder clutched in his hands.

"I'm Doctor Jovis." Holding out his hand for Keith to shake, no preamble or misdirection evident in his manner. A straight forward man with a no nonsense manner, which was exactly what Keith needed at that moment. They shook slowly and then the doctor turned towards Logan, staring for a moment, before moving to sit down at the nearest table.

"I'll cut right to the chase here," he paused, flipping open the file without any preamble. "Veronica Mars was found three months ago, on her twenty-first birthday, residing in a brothel down in Mexico." Looking up at the shocked gasps from both men, he continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "She was badly malnourished, had scurvy, a parasitic infection called scabies, various infections to her toenails and fingernails resulting in the removal of three fingernails and two toenails." He paused, watching as both Logan and Keith started to turn green. "These things, they're the least of her worries, I'm starting with the superficial so that you can get a feel for everything I'm telling you, and the seriousness of the situation." Glancing back at the file, he continued on, not bothering for a response from Keith or Logan.

"Upon being admitted and the subsequent examination, it was determined that Veronica Mars had gonorrhea, chlamydia, and pubic lice. We also found nests of head lice that had burrowed under the scabs from the infection on her scalp. We've since treated, and gotten rid of the gonorrhea, chlamydia, pubic lice, and head lice. We've managed to control the various infections with use of antibiotics, as well as a topical antiseptic that has helped the worst of the scabies heal over." Taking a deep breath, doctor Jovis continued, drawing strength from the oxygen he pulled into his lungs.

"Veronica…" He paused, not daring to look up as he gave the next piece of information. "There was evidence of prolonged sexual abuse, scarring of the vaginal walls, the cervix, the labia. There was some extensive damage to her throat and anus as well. There was a small rectal tear that we were able to repair with surgery." Jovis glanced up, seeing the pale sheen of sweat across both men's faces. "There was evidence of multiple abortions, what looks to be home jobs, that were not done correctly. The last one was within two months of her discovery, where they did not remove all the fetal tissue. A bacterial infection set in, which spread to her ovaries, her fallopian tubes. The infection continued to spread to her bladder, kidneys, and abdominal cavity. Unfortunately, the infection damaged her uterus, ovaries and fallopian tubes beyond repair, and we had to remove them. Once we'd done the hysterectomy, the infection was easily controlled through intravenous antibiotics." Doctor Jovis rushed through the rest of the file, quickly, wanting to finish for the sake of the poor girl's family.

"She had a simple eye infection which had gone untreated, causing a small tear in the cornea of her left eye. It was reparable with surgery, but her vision will be diminished in that eye from now on. She had two molars that were cracked and had abscessed. The resulting infection moved to her jaw bone and upwards to her cheek bone. The infection went untreated as well, resulting in some bone damage on the right side of her face." Jovis sighed, unsure of what else to say, there were minor things still in the file: The jagged scar on her ankles, the scarring on her fingertips, the hard knot of flesh below her belly button that looked like a knife wound from at least two years previous.

"I'm sorry to be so blunt, but I'm not sure there was an easy way to say any of this. That's her physical state. But her mental state is even more troublesome. Veronica," he paused again, taking a deep breath, "Veronica is unresponsive." Doctor Jovis stopped abruptly as Keith cut him off.

"Unresponsive?" Keith questioned, jaw clenched, face pale, a sheen of sweat beading across his forehead. He was trying very hard not to throw up on the good doctor's shoes.

"She hasn't spoken since she arrived. She can follow simple commands, such as: eat, lay down, sit down, and undress, but the more complicated the command the less likely it is that she'll actually understand it." Jovis elaborated quietly. "She's going to be a lot of work at first. I can get you the name of a nursing agency in Neptune if you'd like, but," Jovis stressed this part, Keith could practically see the capital letters in his minds eye. "There's a very big but. She's not ready to go home yet. No where near ready. She still needs surgery, invasive and elective, as well as months of physical therapy." Jovis stressed the physical therapy, not wanting to get Keith's hopes up.

"We're not even sure it is Veronica." Logan spoke for the first time, sick to his stomach at the descriptions of everything that was wrong with the girl. He still couldn't think of her as Veronica, not his Veronica, not yet. It wasn't real yet.

The doctor gave them a startled glance, before flipping quickly through the file, taking the glossy photograph of the girl between his fingers. He flinched before placing it face up on the table, facing Keith and Logan.

"Is this Veronica Mars?" The doctor asked, glancing at Steven.

Keith looked.

Logan looked.

They both rushed for the trashcan as their stomachs rebelled at the evidence of inhuman violence on the girl's face. The decay burned into her eyes. The picture had clearly been taken not long after her arrival in the states. The damage was obvious, obscene, a crime scene photo that should have never been released to the family.

They'd found Veronica.

The picture flashed behind Logan's eyes, causing his stomach to lurch once more, but there was nothing left. Nothing left in his stomach, nothing left to hope for, just nothing. The girl, the girl in that picture, it wasn't his Veronica. Not the snide bitter girl that busted his chops at every turn, the one that laughed and smiled before kissing him gently on the lips, taking his breath away. This was another girl entirely.

A broken, damaged girl.

Logan recovered first. Turning to face Agent Steven Greene, Logan took a step forward. Fury burning in his eyes, unable to contain himself, his hands closed on the lapels of Steven's black dress coat before anyone in the room had time to blink.

"Why the fuck would you do that!" Logan spat into Steven's startled face, two seconds before he smashed him back into the wall. Punctuating his second statement by slamming Steven once again, "Why?"

Keith was finally able to move, the sickly pallor of his skin making him seem much older than his years, pressed his hands gently into Logan's shoulders. "Calm down Logan, step away from the agent." Keith watched impassively as Logan stepped away, shaking out his hands, vibrating with anger. Keith took one step forward, fist flying towards Steven's face before Logan was fully out of the way. They both watched Steven Green as he flew back into the wall, sliding boneless to the ground.

"That? Was completely unnecessary." Keith bit out through clenched teeth. He'd seen his daughter for the first time in over three years, broken. He'd seen her broken in his nightmares, every day since the bus crash. He'd seen her shattered face and ruined mouth in the photograph. Hard evidence that he hadn't been able to save her, hadn't been able to keep his baby girl safe.

Logan wrapped his arms around Keith, a strong, silent presence. He did it, without thought, more for himself than for Keith. Logan felt the tears on his cheeks, felt the wetness slide against his mouth, felt the sorrow leak from him when Keith wrapped his short arms around Logan's middle, pulling him closer. They both cried, released the tension, released the storm that had been brewing on the long drive to Los Angeles.

"When you're ready to see her, I'll take you to her room." Agent Greene spoke from the side, his voice held no apologies. He'd done what he'd thought was the right thing. The shock value of that photograph, taken days after she'd been brought to the hospital, was the deciding factor in deciding whether or not to trust them. Whether or not he could trust either of them with Veronica, near Veronica, taking care of the unfortunate woman.

She was so broken most days, not responding to even verbal commands. Lately, she'd lost something more. The longer she stayed in that room by herself, she lost the hope he'd seen the first few days she'd spent stateside. She'd watched the door, waiting, tense, looking for something or someone, but the longer it took, the more time she spent here, the less she looked, the less she waited, until she stopped waiting for anything at all. It tore Steven apart to see it, to see her damaged face and the loss that swam in the depths of her eyes.

If these two men couldn't have handled the picture, couldn't have handled the damage done to the woman, they didn't deserve to see her at all. They'd passed, with flying colors, without any weak willed wailing. They'd gone on the defensive, both taking shots at him for showing them the crime scene photo. The first photo taken of Veronica upon her return to the states. The damn thing was absolutely haunting and, under other circumstances, would never have been shown to the family.

He'd probably get a reprimand, maybe a suspension from his superiors for the little stunt, but Veronica, Steven knew she deserved better than to be given her family back, and then to have them walk out on her. One more loss, one more hit to her already damaged psyche, and it could very well be the end.

Steven watched impassively as the two men comforted each other, wiped away their own tears, and drew strength from the air around them. The room shrunk around them, their imposing figures taking up more space, seeming larger. Both Keith and Logan were just suddenly more.

"We're ready." The dislike was evident in Keith's voice. Steven turned around and smiled at the situation. He'd been trying to do what was right, what was right for Veronica, and it had earned him her father's displeasure. He could see it, see the fire in Keith's eyes, the hatred lighting Logan's. He could see what had made Keith a good sheriff when he'd been one. Could see the steel in the other man's posture. Steven was almost intimidated, almost cowed.

"Right." Steven turned on his heel, moving out of the room without waiting to see if they'd follow. He knew they would.

They walked in silence back down the long corridor, footsteps once again echoing, making their way back out into the main part of the hospital. Steven moved quickly, efficiently, leading them to a row of elevators. Once inside, he pushed the button for the fifth floor. He waited until the doors slid closed before turning to face the other two men.

"If she doesn't react, if she doesn't show recognition, you can't be upset. This isn't the girl…" he broke off as Keith rudely interrupted.

"I know how to deal with victims, Agent." Keith snapped, bitterness in his voice. "I may have been a lowly small town sheriff, but I've seen enough in my lifetime."

"I've seen more than enough." Logan added softly, determination in his eyes.

"Keith," Steven tried again, but once more Keith cut him off.

"You can call me Mr. Mars from here on out, Agent." Keith snapped.

"Mr. Mars," Steven started once more, exasperation clear in his voice, "I wasn't trying to break you, or shock you. I was trying to impart the severity of this situation. She's been through enough." Steven stated.

Keith gave the Agent a considering look, finally taking in the concern in his eyes, the tightness around the other man's mouth. He saw the look for exactly what it was. Genuine caring. Keith nodded once, letting the other man know he understood, but hadn't forgiven.

"She's definitely been through enough. It's time she was surrounded by her family." Logan once again spoke quietly. He'd seen the nod, seen the understanding in Keith's eyes. Logan wasn't so easily placated. "Not by a bunch of strangers." He added after a moment, meeting Steven's eyes in the dim false light from the elevator.

Steven didn't bother saying anything else, the quiet ding in the silence letting them know they'd finally reached the floor. An eternity later and they'd finally reached Veronica. Keith was the first out of the elevator, followed by Logan, and lastly Steven. Keith, unsure of which way he was supposed to be going, waited for Steven to once again take the lead.

Leading them down the hall, past the nurses' station, he stopped at a door set far back in the wall. Out of the way, but close enough to the nurses' station to let Keith and Logan know that Veronica was definitely a priority on this floor. She was Keith and Logan's only priority.

Pushing open the door, Steven stepped aside, holding it open for the other two men. Stepping though after them, he closed it quietly. The soft snick of the door mechanism engaging was loud in the quiet room.

They could all hear the machines beeping softly, the soft sound of someone breathing in the room, but it was dark, they couldn't make out the small slight figure on the bed.

Logan took one hesitant step forward, stopping to look at Keith. Nodding, Keith urged Logan to continue, his steps just as hesitant as they made their way towards the bed. They stood side by side beside her. They stood together in their grief as they saw her again for the first time. They saw Veronica alive again.

The thought echoed through their brains simultaneously, each having their own dark thoughts as they looked at her peaceful face. Veronica was sleeping. The damage to her face was less noticeable, letting Keith and Logan know the picture had been older, not a more recent one. The scarring at the corner of her mouth was the most evident. A large, vicious, puckered scar that ran from the edge of her lip all the way behind her ear.

Keith turned towards Steven, a question in his eyes, one that Steven could easily answer.

"The best the doctors have been able to figure out, she was cut, had her mouth ripped open. The scar puckered because they didn't suture it. There are small staple scars next to the healed wound." Steven felt his stomach lurch as he explained Veronica's face to them. "It was already healed when she was found. Jovis said with surgery…" shrugging helplessly Steven wasn't sure how to continue.

Keith nodded, turning back to his sleeping daughter. _His sleeping daughter._ The thought passed through his mind, and reality shifted. Veronica was sleeping. Veronica was _alive_ and sleeping. Taking one step forward, bumping the bed, he watched as her eyes shot open. Bleary and hazy with sleep, she fought to focus, not moving a muscle as her eyes darted around the room. The horror in her gaze, on her face, made Keith's chest tighten, made him hurt in a way he'd never thought he could.

"You're safe now, Veronica." Keith spoke softly, the first time those words had passed his lips in years, but it wouldn't be the last, he'd make sure of it. One hand came up hesitantly to touch the damaged side of her face, cupping his palm across her cheek and jaw. "You're here." Keith's voice now held wonder, awe, pain, everything he couldn't hide from her, couldn't hide from himself.

Her eyes locked with Keith's briefly, before flitting to Logan, a look of horror sliding across her face, before she moved slowly away, an inch, barely, but they'd both seen it. Keith and Logan held their collective breaths as she moved slightly, a bare shift. She'd moved away from Logan.

Logan's eyes flew to Keith's face, seeing the question there, before moving to lock on Steven. Unsure of what to do, he looked back at Veronica, moving around the other side of the bed, he cupped her other cheek, repeating her father's statement. "You're safe, Veronica, you're here." He choked out, overcome with emotion. He was touching her for the first time in so long, and it was breaking him.

Veronica glanced back and forth between them, unsure of what to do. Aware, alert for the first time in so long. She glanced at Steven and the corner of her mouth twitched. Steven in turn smiled widely in greeting. "Good evening, Veronica. I brought some people to see you." He spoke softly, knowing from experience that a louder tone would startle her. "Keith Mars and Logan Echolls." Steven said, unsure from the look on Veronica's face if she recognized them at all. Echolls was tall, which was probably what had scared Veronica in the first place. She had an aversion to very large men. More than likely going back to the abuse she'd suffered in _that _place.

Veronica's body went still, very still, barely breathing as she contemplated the words that Steven had spoken. She glanced between the two men at her side again, and her eyes slid closed. She didn't speak, she never spoke, but she'd fallen asleep. In actuality she'd passed out, lost consciousness, overwhelmed by the barrage of visitors. She'd passed out with Keith and Logan still cupping her cheeks.

Steven spoke again, softer this time, not wanting to wake the once again sleeping Veronica. "I'll be going, there are chairs if you want to sit and wait with her." Steven was gone before Keith and Logan had a chance to offer any words at all, the smell of his aftershave in the room the only evidence he'd been there at all.

Keith looked back at Veronica, her eyes closed, the damage to her face, the damage to his bad ass action figure daughter and he smiled. She was alive, his baby girl was alive. Maybe not well, but she was breathing, which was something he'd long ago given up any hope for.

The door opened behind them, startling both men who had been staring in wonder at Veronica. They turned in tandem towards the door, glaring at the intruder. A frightening sight for the night nurse, who hadn't been expecting anyone at all to be in the girl's room. "Who are you? What are you doing in here?" She questioned quickly, since there wasn't supposed to be anyone but the agent and hospital staff in this room. The poor girl was under lock down until they confirmed her identity.

"Agent Greene let us in. I'm Keith Mars and this is Logan Echolls." Keith introduced quietly, not wanting their voices to wake Veronica. "And of course you know Veronica." Keith intoned quietly, turning back to face his daughter, seeing that her eyes were open once more.

"Veronica?" The night nurse questioned quietly. She hadn't been informed of the change in name for Jane Doe.

"Veronica Mars. My daughter." Keith said proudly, never taking his eyes off Veronica's. She seemed to recognize him, or something. He was sure of it. She had to.

"Oh." The nurse gasped, backing quickly out of the room. The best gossip in the hospital, and for once, she was the first to know about it. Hurrying back to the nurses station she informed her co-workers quietly, watching the door like hawks for the two men to leave.

Keith smiled slightly at Veronica, never taking his eyes off her as he reached for the chair, pulling it closer to the bed. "You sleep. There's time enough to catch up in the morning." He spoke quietly, eyes flicking to Logan as he did the same. "We're not going anywhere." Keith promised, watching as Logan nodded.

Logan for his part, hadn't said a word, couldn't say a word. Throat thick and clogged with tears, he was determined not to lose it in front of Veronica. Not now, not when they'd just gotten her back. There was time enough for tears later.

They settled into a routine. Logan taking the night shift, Keith taking the days, splitting their time between her and sleeping. It worked, it didn't, and then it worked again. Keith was always careful how he talked, what he said, where he was standing when he said it. So very careful with every little thing that Veronica became comfortable around him, barely noticed when he entered the room. Sometimes she even seemed to relax when he was around. It was the most that Keith could hope for, at least for now.

The nurse poked her head around the door, careful to be quiet while getting Keith's attention. Keith glanced up from the chair he was sitting in, watching as she pointed to her watch.

He racked his brain trying to remember her name. He'd been introduced to her the first day in the hospital, but it was escaping him at the moment. He took in her grandmotherly appearance, the resemblance to Letty Navarro, and the name finally came to him. Elena. Her name was Elena. The nurse that gave Logan a hard time.

"It's shower time. Did you maybe want to head down to the cafeteria while we get all clean?" Elena raised her eyebrow at Keith, giving him time to make his decision.

"Could I… could I maybe help?" Keith asked hesitantly, getting up from his chair, patting Veronica's shoulder as he moved away. He spoke softer, the closer he got to Elena and the door. "I need to… I need to know. I need to see for myself." Keith looked puzzled at his own words, admitting to something he wasn't sure he'd admitted to himself before. "I need to see what was done to her. I have to know." Keith admitted again, the words gaining strength as he spoke them.

Elena gave him an appraising look, eyeing him for a moment before slowly nodding her head. "Okay. We'll do it together." She patted Keith's shoulder, stepping into the room. "Whenever you're ready." She watched as Keith nodded, and then leaned against the wall to wait.

Making his way towards his daughter, Keith thought of all the reasons this was a bad idea. All the reasons he wasn't ready to see all the damage up close for the first time. He thought about them, then discarded every single reason. He knew he needed to see, he needed to see the scars to make everything real. Sometimes Keith felt like he was dreaming, one big long nightmare of all the things that could have happened to her. He needed to face the reality of her situation.

"Veronica, honey," Keith intoned as he got closer, gently touching her shoulder. "Time for your shower." He stated the words softly, watching as she moved, finally. She stood, automatically, responding to the verbal commands. She barely responded to anything, anymore. "Come on, let's get you all squeaky clean." Taking her hand he led her towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was large, spacious, almost as big as Veronica's old bedroom from their previous apartment. The room was designed for people in wheel chairs, plenty of room for three people. Unsure of exactly what he should do, Keith let go of Veronica's hand, dropping it to her side gently. Glancing at Elena he watched for direction, nodding slightly when she inclined her head towards the shower. He reached into the shower to get the water running, turning his back on Veronica for a moment. "Let's get you in shall we?" He stated cheerfully, reaching for the tie at the neckline of Veronica's gown.

Veronica stood still, eyes unfocused, waiting patiently for Keith to finish whatever he was doing. She gave no reaction as his hand brushed against the nape of her neck, tangling in her hair, unable to get at the ties. "Turn around, honey." Keith asked softly, waiting as she did as he'd asked.

The gown slipped down her arms easily, pooling at her feet, leaving her standing in a pale blue puddle. It matched the veins traveling under her translucent skin. The hard knots of scar tissue made Keith catch his breath. Her underpants were white, soft cotton against her skin, but they covered nothing, little paper panties the hospital had given her to preserve her modesty. Didn't hide the damage to his beautiful, perfect, baby girl. Unable to speak, unable to do get anything out past the lump in his throat, he placed his hand on her side, hoping to turn her around, so he could help her get undressed the rest of the way.

Keith watched as she slid slowly to the ground, to her knees in front of him. He watched helplessly as she slowly bent forward, placing her hands on the ground, ass in the air towards him.

"God, Veronica." Keith finally managed to whisper out, voice breaking on the words. "Get up, baby." Keith begged, eyes taking in her every movement. Watching as she placed her forehead on the cold bathroom tiles, watched as she shifted on her knees making her butt sway towards him. Keith knew it was supposed to look inviting, but all it did was make him sick to his stomach.

Barely making it to the toilet before he lost the contents of his stomach. Retching as he thought of everything that had been done to her. The vile obscenities that had been perpetuated on his daughter, and he hadn't been able to protect her. Hadn't been able to keep her safe. His beautiful baby girl.

"Elena." Keith croaked out, stomach still revolting at the image burned into his mind. "Elena, please." Speaking louder, the panic in his voice was loud enough to get Elena to move from her position by the door. "Help her, please." Keith choked on the words. He hadn't been able to help his baby girl, he hadn't been able to save her, and now… now she was this, this thing on the floor, kneeling for him.

"Go down to the cafeteria, Keith. I've got her." Elena spoke from behind him, her voice laced with sympathy. She held Veronica as Keith bolted. Held the quiet girl in her arms turning her so Veronica sat in a more dignified position in the circle of Elena's own arms, as her father escaped the room. Elena knew that he'd be back, eventually, when the situation calmed itself, but he would never volunteer to bathe Veronica again. Not any time soon at any rate.

Elena brushed Veronica's hair back from her face, soothing the quiet girl. Nonsensical words rarely worked, but a calm touch usually brought the silent woman a trace of peace. At least Elena liked to think the stillness was a form of peace.

"Come on, Veronica, let's get you all squeaky clean for when you're father comes back." Elena spoke soothingly to Veronica, brushing her hair back from Veronica's face. She watched the slow recognition dawn, watched as Veronica pulled away, watched her turn her face towards the door, the same door her father had just disappeared through.

It wasn't much. But it was something. It was only a matter of time before the poor girl was physically healed. Elena just hoped that Veronica's mind had survived her ordeal.

Logan sat staring at his phone. It was time to make the calls. The calls he'd been dreading. But it was time. He was sure of it.

Sitting outside the parking lot, perched on the edge of a concrete block, Logan flipped open his phone, scrolling through the numbers quickly. He picked out Duncan's number first, it would be the easiest phone call. Years of knowing Duncan Kane, of Duncan supporting him through the ordeal of losing Veronica, DK would understand.

Hitting the send button, Logan brought the phone to his ear, waiting for it to connect. Tapping his fingers against his pant leg, watching the clouds moving in the sky. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Putting one in his mouth, just as the call connected and Duncan's voice came over the line.

"Oh, so you're finally calling me? Did partying with Dick become too much?" Duncan teased across the line, sitting behind his desk back in Neptune. The soft creaking through the speaker brought to mind an image of Duncan getting comfortable in his chair, leaning back, relaxing for a long conversation. It was something Logan had seen Duncan do on numerous occasions, and it brought a smile to his face now.

Taking the cigarette from between his lips, Logan took a deep breath and tried to speak. "Duncan." Was all that came out before he lost his nerve. He put the cigarette back into his mouth with trembling fingers, fumbling the lighter out of his pocket, and lighting the tip. The acrid smell of burning tobacco reached his nose, the smoke burned his lungs, but it steadied him. Gave him courage.

"Logan? You okay?" Duncan questioned hesitantly. Logan could see DK clearly, fingers gripping the phone, listening to Logan inhaling the cigarette smoke, knowing something was wrong. Sometimes Duncan Kane knew him a little to well.

"No. No I'm really not." Logan intoned, pulling off the cigarette once more. Trying to decide the best way to say what he was about to say. Finally deciding bluntness was the only way to get it out, to not choke on the words. "They found her, Duncan." Logan stated baldly, relief washing over him at the words. They were out, someone else knew. Someone else who had loved her like he did knew.

"What? Logan? You're not making any sense." Duncan questioned, staring at the wall in confusion. "Who'd they find, Logan?" Comprehension dawned, clicked into place, and Duncan took a deep breath. "They found Veronica?" He questioned on a breath. The rattle of the phone could be heard clearly.

"They found Veronica." Logan repeated. Staring fixedly at the glowing tip of the cigarette.

"Oh god, Logan. Where'd they find her? Is Keith with you?" Duncan questioned quickly.

"They found her in Mexico. Keith is here with me, at the hospital in Los Angeles." Logan breathed, feeling some relief at finally letting it out. "God, Duncan, she's so broken." Logan felt the tears on his cheeks, heard his voice crack. "She's so broken, what they did to her." Logan trailed off, unsure of how many details he could share.

"Wait. Logan? You're saying Veronica's… alive?" Duncan stuttered out, pain blossoming in his chest.

"What did you think I was saying?" Logan questioned absently, wiping at the tears on his cheek with the hand holding the cigarette, the ashes caught on a soft breeze, falling to the ground.

"Her body… I thought they'd found… oh my god, she's alive?" Duncan questioned again, unable to wrap his mind around the concept. "Where has she been, Logan?" Duncan queried, nothing was making sense.

"They found her in Mexico. She was… she was… god, Duncan. She was sold to a brothel there. She was… god." Logan's voice broke completely, the first sob taking over. He threw the cigarette to the ground with an angry gesture. "She's so broken, Duncan." Logan repeated.

"Which hospital are you at?" Duncan questioned quickly, standing and moving through the house towards the living room where Meg was. "Meg and I will be right there, tell me where you are, Logan." He stated, seeing the startled look on Meg's face. He shook his head, and gestured for her to be quiet.

"You can't come. Not yet, she's not ready." Logan choked out.

"We have to see her, Logan. Tell me where you are." Duncan's jaw clenched. Veronica was alive.

"Not yet. I'll… I'll call you later, when she's better." Quickly disconnecting the call, Logan stared at his phone for a moment, unsure of who to call next.

"What's going on?" Meg questioned softly, from her position on the couch. She could see the fear on Duncan's face, could see the pain clearly. Four years together and she knew her boyfriend well.

"They found Veronica." Duncan breathed out, tears standing out in his eyes. "They found her alive." Duncan choked, sitting heavily on the couch.

"What?" Meg inquired, taking Duncan's hand in hers. "They what?" She asked again, unsure if she'd heard Duncan right.

"She's at a hospital in Los Angeles. Logan and Keith are there with her now." He paused taking in the words he'd just spoken, trying to understand exactly what was happening. "They found her alive." He spoke in wonder. They'd all been so sure. She'd been declared legally dead. She'd been gone. Veronica Mars had been snuffed out too early, her life gone in the blink of an eye. But now it wasn't.

Veronica Mars was alive, in a hospital in Los Angeles. They'd found her alive.

"We have to go." Meg stood, moving towards the door.

"Logan says… he says she's not ready." Duncan choked out, the tears brimming over and flowing down his cheeks. "He said she's broken. She was in a brothel. Meg." Duncan gasped, the pain taking over.

Meg paused, turning slowly back towards where Duncan was sitting. "What?" She whispered, sure she hadn't heard what Duncan had said right. "What?" She repeated when Duncan just stared fixedly at her.

"Logan said, they found her in a brothel in Mexico. She's broken, Meg." Duncan said the words, repeated what Logan had told him. "Why didn't we look for her?" Duncan questioned, the guilt eating him alive.

"We didn't know." Meg spoke softly, moving back towards Duncan. She sat gingerly on the couch, pulling him into her arms. "We couldn't have known, Duncan." She whispered, but the guilt was looming large in her chest.

"It's funny. In a way." Duncan stated, sniffling, laughing humorlessly. "Veronica Mars went missing, and the one person that wouldn't have given up? The one person that would have kept looking until the truth was found?" Duncan glanced up at Meg, watching the sad smile slide off the corners of her mouth. "Was Veronica Mars."

Three cigarette butts littered the ground at Logan's feet. He was trying to get the courage up to make another phone call. To phone the one person who had fed his addictions after losing Veronica. Dick Casablancas. The one person that had blamed himself almost as much as Logan had.

It was Dick's fault that Veronica had been on the bus instead of the limo. It was his fault for continuing the animosity between himself and Veronica. It was Dick's fault Veronica had died in the bus crash. It had nearly eaten him alive. Remorse. It was a funny thing.

Logan stared at Dick's number, lit up on the screen. Trying to decide if he wanted to make the call at all. He hesitated, once more, before pressing send.

It immediately went to voicemail. "You've reached the Dickmeister. If you're a good looking girl looking for a good time, leave a message. If you're not, don't bother." A long beep after the message and Logan was left searching for words.

"Hey… Dick, it's Logan." Chuckling at his own stupidity, Logan continued, "Of course you know it's Logan. But… I have news. They found her, man. They found Veronica." He paused, rethinking that statement. "They found her alive." He quickly disconnected the call, fishing out another cigarette and lighting it efficiently. The slow burn filled him, gave him purpose as he tried to think of who to call next.

The logical choice was Weevil. Weevil had been there at the convenience store that day. He'd been following the bus, trying to protect one of his boys. He'd been there, had seen the crash, and had been unable to do anything about it. Weevil had left the PCHers after that. He'd been unable to protect his boy, unable to protect Veronica. He'd promised he'd always have her back, but this time, Weevil had let her down.

The cigarette had burned down, untouched to the filter and singeing Logan's fingers. He dropped it quickly, sticking his fingers in his mouth, not even noticing he'd pressed the send button on his phone.

"Hello? White boy? What the fuck." Logan could hear Weevil's voice yelling into the phone. He brought it quickly to his ear, pulling his fingers out of his mouth.

"Shut up." Logan pleads, dreading the upcoming conversation, dreading what he'd have to tell Weevil.

"Hey, you called me, Echolls." Weevil bit out. Unsure as to why Logan fucking Echolls was calling him.

"I hit the button by mistake." Logan admitted, staring absently at the red blister forming on his index finger.

"Well then, hang the fuck up." Logan could hear Weevil moving to disconnect the call.

"They found her." Logan blurted out before Weevil could hang up. "They found her alive." He stated, shaking at the words. They didn't get easier the more he spoke them. The words would never get easier.

"What?" Weevil gasped.

"They found Veronica. They found her alive, in Mexico." Logan ground out, the words catching and sticking in his throat.. The repetition making it easier to draw air into his lungs.

"What are you smoking, Echolls?" Weevil questioned, disbelief plain in his voice.

"They found her alive, Weevil. She'd been… she was in a brothel in Mexico." Logan let the words hang, letting Weevil draw his own conclusions.

"Holy fuck." Weevil breathed, staring into space. "She's alive?" He questioned softly, unsure of exactly what else to say.

"She's alive." Logan confirmed, once more.

"Where are you?" Weevil questioned.

"We're in Los Angeles. She's… she's in the hospital here. Not ready for visitors yet though." Logan repeated the same words he'd told Duncan. The repetition didn't make them any less true. Veronica wasn't ready and he wasn't ready to share her, not yet.

"Phone me, Echolls. Let me know when she's ready and I'll be there." Weevil promised, the words catching in his throat. Veronica Mars was alive. The girl had more lives than a cat.

"I will. She's… god." Logan started, then cut himself off. "Just don't go playing lone ranger and track her down, okay? She's really not ready." Logan said quietly, breathing deeply.

"Don't wait too long to phone then, Echolls. I won't wait forever." Weevil stated baldly, disconnecting the call.

Logan stared at his phone. Stared at the time of the call. Watched the seconds tick by before he gently closed it. Dick would tell Beaver, Beaver would tell Mac.

Logan figured he had about a week before he'd have to call everyone again. One week before they tried to track them down. It wasn't enough time.

A year wouldn't be enough time for Veronica to recover and resume her old life. A lifetime would never be enough.

Shaking his head, he shoved his phone back into his pocket, heading towards the entrance to the hospital. Time to relieve Keith. To spend the night with Veronica. His girl.

lj-cut text="Part Five"

Money. It drove the world. Made life harsher. An impossible reality in a country based on capitalism.

Keith Mars had no money. Logan Echolls did.

Keith Mars was a proud man, a determined man, who had always paid his own way. Logan Echolls was born with a silver spoon so far up his ass, he spit silver dollars.

The bone of contention.

Veronica Mars needed a lot of medical attention. The hospital bills that Keith had been given after being reunited with his daughter had been daunting. Hundreds of thousands of dollars for the care she'd already received. Estimates in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, as well, for the surgeries she'd need to recover fully, to look anything like the girl she used to be. Bills upon bills.

Keith Mars had no money.

Logan Echolls did.

Weeks had passed since the reunion. Days of hard work, tears, sweat, blood and pain. Endless days where Keith and Logan didn't sleep, and Veronica slept too often. Keith and Logan talked to her, in soft hushed tones, telling her everything she'd missed while she was gone, speaking like she'd never left at all. Sometimes she looked like she understood, remembered the people they mentioned, but most times she barely looked at them at all.

Keith and Logan argued over money, over finances, over Veronica's medical bills. They fought like cats and dogs when they weren't in Veronica's room. They'd had years of practice: fight, argue, drink, lather, rinse, repeat.

"No. For the last time, Logan, I am not taking your money." Keith insisted, voice raised, as he paced back and forth in the visitor's lounge.

"And once again, I ask, how the hell are you going to pay for what she needs! Sue me for wanting what's…" Logan trailed off, a bright look coming into his eye, barely noticing as Keith snorted.

"That's mature. Resorting to grade school Logan? I'm shocked." Keith snorted again, continuing to pace.

"That's it." Logan stated, unfolding himself from the cramped plastic chair he'd been camped out in.

"What's it?" Keith stopped, turning to look at Logan with a confused look on his face.

"Sue me." Logan stated again, the bright look in his eyes quickly morphing into sheer determination.

"What?" Keith was totally confused now, not that it was an uncommon occurrence when dealing with one Logan Echolls.

"Sue me. If you sue me for damages, well, not me personally, but the Echolls estate, you'd have the money to pay for everything, and it would be Veronica's money. Not mine." Logan stated, punching his fist in the air. "I'm a genius."

Keith paused, staring at Logan in open mouthed shock. "What you are is an idiot." He snapped, before turning away in disgust.

"Why? It's the perfect solution!" Logan began, only to be cut off by Keith.

"It is not! Use your head! We'd be laughed out of court. We don't know that Aaron had Veronica kidnapped. We don't know that she wasn't on the bus, found later, and some asshole took advantage of the situation! We don't know anything, other than the fact Veronica's alive." Keith spat, sighing at the look of bewilderment on Logan's face. "She's my daughter, Logan." Keith said softly, reinforcing that fact by slapping his hand down violently on his knee. "It's my responsibility to take care of her." Hanging his head, he placed his face in his palms, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

"I love her, Keith. Let me do this." Logan pleaded, once more, again, repeatedly. Always with the same arguments.

"I can't." Keith spoke quietly, trying to make his tone more final.

"Have you called Alicia today?" Logan changed the subject abruptly. Running his hands through his hair, he took over Keith's wild pacing.

"I talked to her this morning. She's told Wallace." Keith smiled softly, thinking of his step son, before the smile slipped away. "He's insisting on coming to see her." Keith shook his head, unsure of the consequences of overloading Veronica with too much family all at once.

"She's not ready." Logan stated, a soft look in his eye. The words were so familiar. The same words that he'd repeated to himself on a regular basis, ever since the night Veronica was declared legally deceased.

When they were teenagers, they'd been ready for anything, everything… something. Logan thought about that mental statement for a moment, before amending himself. Veronica had been ready to take on the world and win. She had, too, too many times to count. His blonde blue-eyed girl had come out on top of everything. She'd lost this time. Veronica wasn't ready for anything anymore.

"I know that. Alicia managed to convince him it wasn't a good idea, but I'm not sure how long she's going to be able to hold him off." Keith smiled. Wallace had definitely picked up a few of his daughter's worst traits. Her perseverance, for one.

Logan looked at Keith, feeling like he was seeing him for the first time. The absolute tiredness in his eyes, the defeat, it made Keith Mars look old. Much older than his actual years. "You alright?" Logan asked quietly, taking a seat next to Keith.

"I'm fine. Tired, but fine." Keith muttered, cutting his hands through the air in finality.

"You don't look fine." Logan's voice was still soft, unsure of what exactly to should say to the father of the tortured girl.

"Take it back!" Keith retorted, lightly punching Logan on the arm. "I look fabulous!" Keith exclaimed, adopting a super model air, tossing his head to mime flipping his hair back.

"And again, with the totally uncool thing to do." Logan smirked, patting Keith's shoulder awkwardly.

"I'm a father, I'm not supposed to be cool." Keith snarked, before taking a deep breath, "One of us should get back there." He stood, tottering slightly in his exhaustion.

"I'll go. Why don't you head back to the hotel? Call Alicia, get a few hours of sleep." Logan tried to be solicitous, but in reality, he just wanted some time alone with Veronica. Time where her father wasn't hovering nearby.

Keith rubbed his hand over his face tiredly. It hadn't been a bad idea, he could use the rest, but he hated leaving Veronica. "You just want time alone with my daughter." Keith smiled slightly, still indecisive about leaving.

"Go. Phone Alicia, bring her up to date, take a nap. You're no use to anyone, as exhausted as you are." Logan said, running his hand through his hair again, a nervous habit that seemed to have returned with the return of Veronica.

Keith nodded once, twice, really not wanting to go, but knowing his body really needed the rest. "I'll be back in a few hours." Keith moved to go, stopping as Logan spoke.

"Why don't you ask Alicia and Wallace to come? They don't have to be here at the hospital, but they could stay at the hotel? As much as I'd like to say we can handle this on our own, family around would be a good thing." Logan smirked self depreciatingly. He wasn't the same self confident blow hard he'd been in high school. In the years Veronica had been gone, he'd learned an important lesson. Family made everything slightly easier to bear.

"I'll ask her, but I'm not sure…" Keith trailed off, not bothering to say goodbye as he headed out the door. A few hours of sleep and he'd be right back here, sending Logan back to the hotel to do the same.

Logan wandered back towards the nurses station, taking his time, sauntering. Finally making it to the counter, he pressed forward, leaning his weight on the solid wood. Elena was there today, as she was most days when Keith finally gave in and went to get some sleep. Always on the evening shift, she usually showed up around three in the afternoon, even though her shift didn't start until five. Dedicated, that was the only word Logan could use to describe Elena. He also suspected she had a soft spot for Veronica. There was no concrete evidence, other than the fact she showed up two hours early and often sought out Keith or Logan before her shift actually started. Logan gave Elena his most charming smile, laying it on thick.

"Elena, my love, how are you today?" Logan smarmed at the petite older lady. She had a soft spot for him, as had been clearly evidenced by the pudding cups she snuck him when serving Veronica's meals. She was small, petite, well rounded, looking like someone's grandmother, nearly a replica of Leticia Navarro.

"Don't try to charm me, Mr. Echolls. It won't work." She smiled brightly as she turned toward him, eyes twinkling.

"Elena! You wound me!" Pausing, Logan considered the older woman for a moment. "And how many times have I told you not to call me Mr. Echolls? I keep expecting my father to walk up behind me and stick a knife in my back." Logan smiled humorlessly. "If one was to theoretically want to pay a hospital bill, but had no actual statement of money owing, how might one do that?" Logan asked seriously, changing the subject. Mentally shoring himself for the cut down he was sure Elena would give him, he forged ahead with determination.

Keith was being unreasonable about finances. Logan had learned the easiest way to deal with an unreasonable Keith Mars. Ignore him, and do what Logan intended to do all along. Logan was going to pay Veronica's medical bills, and Keith, well Keith was just going to have to suck it up.

Elena smiled, dipping her hand beneath the counter, and coming up holding her prize. Duplicate copies of Veronica's hospital bills. "Theoretically you could ask a nurse with a soft spot for the patient for duplicates of the bills." Elena smirked, a look that was all wrong on her fine boned features. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to ask for them. I was getting ready to stuff them down your pants."

"Down my pants?" Logan blinked for a moment before smirking. "You'd be stuffing bills down my pants, Elena? I'm shocked."

"No, you're not." Elena smiled, reaching over the counter to pat Logan's cheek. "Theoretically I could get fired for giving you those." She motioned to the large stack of hospital bills, miming a zipping of lips motion.

"So, theoretically, I'd owe said nurse a thank you then?" Logan questioned lightly. Inside he was a raging ball of turmoil. It had been too easy, too easy to work his way around Keith. Nothing with the Mars' was ever easy, not for Logan. He'd learned that the hard way while still in high school, he'd learned that by dating Veronica the summer before she disappeared.

"No theoretical about it, sweets. You owe me huge." Elena smirked again, handing over the bill without any further comment.

"What do I owe you?" Logan asked softly, not liking to be debt to anyone, even someone who looked like a sweet little old lady. There was always a catch, always a price higher than you expected to pay.

"A million dollars?" She asked, tongue in cheek, laughing at the twinkle that came into Logan's eyes.

"Not sure I can afford that, Elena. I'm rich, but that might be pushing it." Logan grinned, laughing at the nurse's audacity.

"A romp in the sack on my night off?" Elena laughed out, watching the blush creep across Logan's cheeks. He was so adorable when he blushed.

"Elena!" Logan blurted out, shocked at the turn of Elena's teasing.

"What? I'm old, sweetie, not dead." She patted his cheek, letting him know that it was all in fun. "How about an invite to the wedding of the century?" She smiled, eyes twinkling, as she continued to tease him. Her smile fell away as she watched Logan's face.

Logan froze, caught his breath, refused to exhale. The pain in his chest became overwhelming, the world tilted, he felt the floor shift beneath him.

He'd refused to think about the future, refused to think about anything other than Veronica getting better. They, right now, they couldn't have a future. Not with Veronica broken, laying in a hospital bed. She was dead. Only weeks ago she'd been dead and he'd been trying to move on. There was no future, no point beyond this.

Sliding slowly to the floor, he could see Elena rushing towards him, leaning over him, as he pulled in gasping breaths, clutching at his chest. He couldn't breathe, the room was too small, the entire hospital was closing in around him.

"Mr. Echolls," Elena was frantic, cupping his face, trying to get him to focus on her. "Logan, you have to breathe, come on sweetie, breathe." She intoned, breathing deeply into his face, trying to get him to match her inhale for exhale. "Come on, it's just a panic attack, come on." She patted his cheek as he finally focused on her.

Logan breathed, trying to match Elena, breath speeding up as he once again thought of Veronica. She'd been, and… his mind blacked out at the thought. His Veronica. She'd been his Veronica, but she wasn't anymore.

"I can't breathe," Logan rasped out, tongue feeling thick and heavy in his mouth.

"Sure you can, just breathe with me." Elena smiled gently, breathing evenly, watching as Logan finally managed to match her slow even breathing. She hadn't expected him to have that reaction. Her words sent him into a full blown panic attack. There were rumors around the station, on the floor, about Mr. Logan Echolls.

How he'd dated Veronica Mars in high school, how he'd stood by her even after she'd put his father in jail. The press had followed him closely after the bus crash, after Veronica was declared legally deceased. Everyone knew the story by now. It had been splashed across the papers, the internet, made front page news on more than one occasion. How Logan Echolls had tried to kill himself, how he'd loved Veronica Mars enough to turn his back on his famous family.

They were legendary.

It was a natural assumption, once Veronica was better, once she'd recovered, that Logan would want to try and work things out. It had been a natural conclusion for Elena. But apparently, maybe, she was wrong. Logan was, after all, only in his twenties. Most twenty year old men would have a full blown panic attack at the mention of marriage. Looking closer at Logan, Elena changed her mind. He really did love Veronica, it was written all over his face as he lay in the circle of Elena's own arms. It wasn't the thought of marriage that had sent him over the edge, Elena was sure of that.

"Sorry," Logan rasped out, his mouth dry, the pain in his chest still strong.

"Happens to everyone from time to time." Elena smiled stiffly, unsure of exactly what to say to make her little oversight better. She was definitely suffering from a severe case of foot in mouth disease.

"First time for me." Logan said softly, embarrassed. He'd seriously lost it.

"You okay now?" Elena asked, hesitantly. She ran her hands lightly over his scalp checking for bumps. She scanned his face looking for the tell tale blue tinge around his lips that would alert her to further breathing problems.

"Not really, but at least I can breathe now." Logan smirked slightly, struggling to get to his feet. Elena held out her hand, letting him use her for support as the world tilted slightly.

"Breathing would be good. I realize it's a bad habit, but if you try to quit cold turkey like that," she paused, smiling as Logan looked at her questioningly, "It'll kill you." She smiled wider when Logan chuckled, the terror fading from his eyes slightly.

"You think you're so cute, don't you?" Logan gently chucked Elena under her chin, smiling. There wasn't anything else to say, really, not to the woman who had witnessed him losing his mind.

"I know I am." She stopped for a moment, staring up at Logan, evaluating him, before continuing, "We have… people here you could talk to. This is going to be a difficult time for all of you." She said it with a no-nonsense air, not wanting him to think she was pitying him.

"I'm pretty certain I'll manage." Logan smiled at her concern. Brushing her words away with little or no care, rebuilding the armor he'd lost during his panic attack. "Now, back to the topic at hand. Where do I pay the bill?" Changing the subject effortlessly, previous experience as Aaron Echolls son having taught him well, he turned back to the counter to pick up the papers he'd dropped.

"Down in accounting, first floor, turn left after the elevators." Elena said softly, moving back behind the counter. "And if anyone asks, I had nothing to do with those bills." Elena said, smirking once again.

"Understood." Logan smiled widely, moving back down the hall towards the elevators. Time to pay Veronica's medical bills, quickly, and then come sit with her for the rest of the afternoon.

Elena called down the hall to him, making him pause and stop in his tracks. "I was talking about Oprah and Stedman's wedding." Elena tried to reassure, leaning over the counter to meet Logan's eyes.

"What makes you think I'm invited?" Logan choked out, absolutely embarrassed now at Elena's attempts to make him feel better. The woman had balls and a heart to match. The combination reminded him of a much younger Veronica.

"A girl can dream right?" She twinkled at him, her laughter tittering down the length of the hallway.

Shaking his head, he continued towards the elevators. Elena was a sweet old lady, but every once in awhile, she was just a little bit nuts.

The panic attack stood out strongly in his mind, making him shudder at the thought of behaving like that in front of Veronica. He'd terrify her, break her, send her scuttling back into the world she'd built herself.

Logan knew he'd have to be stronger, would have to hold it together, at least while Veronica was around. Letting her know how much he hated seeing her like this, it was guaranteed to break her.

Heading towards the elevators, Logan made his way down to the lobby. A brand new pack of cigarettes already in his hand, he had time for a quick smoke before heading back to Veronica's room. A quick smoke and a few phone calls. Veronica wouldn't be asleep for much longer. Time was catching up to him. He'd phoned Duncan twice since he'd been here. There was no way Duncan and Meg were going to wait much longer. Any time now they'd show up on the hospitals front door step, baggage in hand, wanting to see Veronica.

Logan had a cigarette out of the pack and perched between his dry lips as he stepped from the building. Lighting it quickly, he flipped through his phone for the number, hitting send even as he dragged deeply on the cigarette between his lips. Duncan answered on the first ring, as though he'd been sitting on the phone waiting for Logan to call.

"We're packed and ready to go. We'll be there tomorrow." Duncan stated, not even bothering with saying hello.

"No." Logan spit out, the cigarette falling to the ground at his feet. Bending quickly to retrieve it he spoke harshly into the phone. "She's still not ready. There was… it was bad, Duncan. Really bad." Logan choked out, gasping around the smoke in his mouth.

"What happened?" Duncan asked sympathetically. Too much pity, too much sympathy, it was going to swallow Logan whole.

"She got down on her knees for her father. When he was trying to help her shower." Logan stated badly, sure that this, this would hammer home for Duncan exactly how damaged Veronica was.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Duncan breathed out. The loud sound of him sitting and missing the couch came clearly through the phone.

"My sentiments exactly. Please, just, hold off for awhile longer?" Logan begged. "We're discussing the first of the surgeries now. Trying to figure things out. Just, we need awhile longer, DK." Logan stated again, drawing deeply on the cigarette.

"We're not going to wait forever, Logan. You have to know… you understand what she meant… to all of us." Duncan said softly, "What she means to all of us." Duncan amended at the sound of Logan's quick inhalation.

"I know. Trust me I know." Logan stubbed out his cigarette and threw it into the grass. "Just give us some more time before you're camped out on her doorstep okay? I'm not sure she could take it right now." Logan asked once more.

"Alright. But one of these times you're not going to be able to convince me not to come, you realize that right?" Duncan joked into the phone, trying to lighten the mood. "Meg and I are going to load Lilly into the car and we'll be on your doorstep before you realize what we're doing."

Logan laughed softly, even as he fished another cigarette out of the pack. "How is the little terror these days, anyway?" Logan inquired. Meg Manning and Duncan Kane had been the proud parents of Lilly Kane since the middle of senior year. Seven months after Veronica had… after the bus crash. They'd stuck by each other, living together, and refusing to get married, even though Meg's parents had disowned her for having a baby out of wed lock. Add to that, that they were parents to an unholy terror on two short stubby legs, and they were the most amazing people that Logan knew. They'd beaten the odds.

"She used my mother's facial cream… you know the one, it looks like green toothpaste?" Logan made a non-commital sound as he settled in to listen, when Duncan got talking about Lilly there was very little actual conversation, and a whole lot of bragging. "Anyway, she used the paste to paint a mural on granny's wall. One that Lilly, of course, knew that her grampy would absolutely love." Duncan was laughing by now, remembering the look on Celeste Kane's face. "We discovered when we tried to wash it off, that the damn green stuff is like glue, not toothpaste. Not only that? But it stains walls as well." Logan joined Duncan in laughter.

"I'm sure you're mother just loved that one." Logan snickered, stubbing out his second cigarette and throwing it into the bushes.

"Oh you bet. I'm pretty certain she invented a whole new shade of purple." Duncan admitted softly. "Just using her face and ears. Fuck was she mad." Duncan's voice held a little awe. "And then Lilly, being Lilly of course, tilted her head to the side, and gave this wide perfect smile and asked her granny if she loved the picture she'd painted for her. Celeste melted like an ice princess in hell." Duncan snickered at his own wit.

"An apt description, that one. So what ended up happening?" Logan asked, trying to keep Duncan talking for at least a little while longer.

"My mother grinned from ear to ear and told Lilly that of course she loved it, but next time to paint it on paper so granny could take it around and show it off to all of her friends." Duncan paused, considering. "Sometimes? I think it's my mother that should have gone into politics."

"Well she is a shark wearing last seasons Prada." Logan snarked out, laughing at Duncan's choking chuckle. Hesitating for a moment, Logan finally asked, "So we're good?" Waiting patiently while Duncan actually thought about it.

"Yah, we're good. You can understand our impatience, both Meg and I want to see her for ourselves. But, you're probably right that it isn't the right time. Not yet at least." Duncan admitted softly, stroking a hand through his hair wearily. "You should really quit smoking though, Meg will kick your ass when we actually see you."

Logan choked, on the third cigarette he'd been about to light, tears coming unexpectedly to his eyes. "She could try… but I'm pretty certain I could take her." Logan breathed out, trying to get the words out between gasping inhalations. "How'd you know?" Logan couldn't contain his curiosity, he'd thought he was being so sneaky about it.

"I can hear you breathing deeply and then exhaling over the phone. No matter what you think of me, I'm not actually a moron." Logan could practically hear Duncan rolling his eyes through the phone line.

"I never said you were a moron." Logan paused dramatically, "An idiot maybe." He admitted softly, laughing outright when Duncan sputtered across the line.

"I'm hanging up now." Came Duncan's firm voice, the edge of obvious amusement lacing his words. "Call me later, okay?" Duncan asked, "Even if you just need to talk." He stated the offer, pretty certain that Logan would never take him up on it.

"Alright. Later DK." Logan flipped the phone closed, staring at the cigarette that had been crushed in his hand. Throwing it to the sidewalk he trampled it under the toe of his shoe.

He wasn't quitting, he told himself, he just didn't need the third cigarette in fifteen minutes. Not today.

Veronica was sitting by the window when Logan finally made it back to her room. Staring out the window at nothing, the blank dazed look back on her face. It was a look she'd worn often since they'd been reunited. Today was slightly different, she didn't turn towards him when he entered the room, didn't turn to see who was at the door. Her hands were clenching and unclenching around the arms of the chair as he watched her.

"Hey, baby." Logan said softly, moving slowly towards her.

A small twitch at the corner of Veronica's lip was the only sign she'd heard. She still hadn't turned towards him. Logan was taking it as a good sign, that she'd gotten used to seeing him, was getting used to him being around. Maybe, a small part of Logan hoped, just maybe she remembered him.

"Sorry it took me so long to come back. Had some bills to pay." Logan said, keeping his voice gentle, as he sat in the chair beside her. Leaning closer, he watched the tension ease out of her shoulders, watched her relax slightly, he'd give anything to know what she was thinking. "I'm here now, I get to spend the rest of the afternoon with my favorite girl." He smiled, watched her eyelashes dip lower, her only acknowledgement to his statement.

"Elena will be by later with lunch, and of course, my extra pudding cups." He licked his lips slightly, still watching her, alert for any reaction from Veronica. "The weather's beautiful outside today, almost perfect surfing weather." Logan smiled widely, leaning back in the chair to continue the one sided conversation. "We went surfing together, remember?" Logan asked, but didn't wait for her to answer, he knew she wouldn't. "You kept yelling at me, sun kissed and happy, smiling even as you told me what an idiot I was for thinking surfing was fun." Logan chuckled lightly at the memory.

Veronica had been in a body hugging wetsuit, drenched to the skin, smiling and laughing as they kissed their way through the ocean. She'd been happy. Hell, he'd been happy that day. It was the day he finally realized Veronica loved him, even if she wouldn't say it out loud.

"We went for ice cream afterwards," Logan mused, "It still shocks me how much ice cream you could actually eat. I think you managed to eat your body weight in sweets that day, which wasn't really a huge feat, considering how tiny you were." Logan smirked, closing his eyes as he talked.

This was the daily routine. Talk to Veronica, relive the past, try to rekindle some sort of recognition. Sometimes he felt like he'd managed, but most days he left the room feeling like his whole world was falling apart around him. The ceiling of the past crumbling down on top of him until the weight of it was crushing the air from him.

Self imposed torture.

The sun moved slowly across the sky as he talked. Lunch was served, Logan feeding Veronica as he continued speaking. Companionable silence, he told himself, she was listening to every word he said. Logan didn't really believe it, but he kept telling himself that, giving himself something to have faith in.

The sun had just started to dip below the horizon, Veronica still in her chair, when Keith entered the room. Logan glanced up, seeing the expression on Keith's face, and knowing that Keith knew about the hospital bill.

"Logan? Can I speak with you for a minute?" Keith tried hard to keep his voice even, but he couldn't contain the anger. Anger at the audacity of the young man sitting alone in a room with his daughter, like nothing had happened, like he wouldn't get caught.

Logan stood, brushing a gentle hand across Veronica's shoulder, "I'll be right back, baby." His voice still soft, still gentle, even as his whole body tensed at the confrontation to come.

They moved out into the hallway, the door barely closed behind them before Keith lost it. "What the hell were you thinking!" Keith bit out, slightly louder than he'd intended. He took a deep breath, trying to contain himself before he continued. "You had no right to do that, no right. I would have figured something out."

"How'd you find out so fast?" Logan questioned, bemused.

"Nurse's gossip. Or hadn't you noticed? What did you think would happen? That no one would talk? That I wouldn't find out?" Keith ground out, face turning purple in his fury.

"I figured I'd have at least a couple of days to think of something to tell you." Logan admitted ruefully. "I'd forgotten about the whole gossiping women thing." Logan shook his head in bafflement. He'd seriously miscalculated.

"Think of something to tell me? How about the truth? Or better yet, you shouldn't have done anything at all. I would have figured it out, Logan." Keith shook with anger, vein popping in his forehead.

"And while you were figuring something out, Veronica would have had to wait for what she needed." Logan stated calmly.

"Dammit Logan! I'm her father!" Keith yelled, frustration getting the better of him.

"We both love her Keith. I may not be family, but I love her too." Logan's voice had gone deceptively soft.

Sighing loudly, Keith rubbed at his face. The nap he'd gone back to the hotel room to have, hadn't helped his exhaustion any. He felt ten years older than he had before the phone call from the FBI.

"You're family, Logan." Keith said, decisively.

"Isn't that what you taught me, Keith? That family looks out for one another? Helps one another?" Logan kept his voice soft, not wanting to antagonize Keith further, not unless Keith gave him no other choice.

"They do." Keith finally admitted, a long lengthy pause before he spoke again. "I wanted to do this for her." Keith's voice sounded broken. "I wanted to fix her, since I couldn't save her."

"We saved her, Keith. We'd saved her before, just not this time." Logan's voice hitched, breath catching in his throat as he admitted his worst fear. "What if this time, this time we can't put her back together?" He questioned, knowing that Keith would have an answer, so sure Keith could fix things.

Keith stared at Logan, unsure of how to reassure him, since he wasn't quite sure if they could bring Veronica back to them. She may be mute for the rest of her life. She could be broken for the rest of their lives, it was a sad fact, and not one Keith was willing to entertain for more than minutes at a time.

"I don't know, Logan. I just don't know." Keith whispered out, heart aching at the thought of Veronica.

Without a word, Logan turned back to the room, taking a deep breath to compose himself before stepping back through the door. Holding it open for Keith, watching as Veronica gave the same non-reaction from the afternoon. Logan couldn't help but hope that this was some form of progress, that she was remembering them slowly.

"We're back, Veronica. Your dad's with me this time though." Logan smiled at the back of her head, hoping she could hear it in his voice.

"Hey, honey." Keith spoke in the same tone Logan used, the one they all used around Veronica now.

For Veronica's part, she didn't move, didn't twitch, just sat stiffly in her chair. She tensed slightly when Keith moved towards her, eyelid fluttering when Keith lightly touched her hair.

"Alicia, Wallace, and Darryl send their love." Keith kept speaking softy, moving to sit in the chair that Logan had vacated. "Wallace is chomping at the bit to come see you and Alicia says you have to come home soon, so she can cook you some good eats." Keith smiled, stroking Veronica's hair, even as she remained tense beneath his touch. "Anything has to be better than hospital food huh?" Keith tried to choke back the tears, tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, but everything was catching up to him.

"Keith." Logan said softly, warningly, telling Keith to get a grip on himself silently.

Keith stood up, moving quickly towards the bathroom, when a soft word froze him in his tracks.

"Stop." Keith swung around, turning to face Veronica, turning around to face his daughter, who was still motionless in the chair. Eyes flying to Logan, he saw his own shock reflected in Logan's face.

"Veronica?" Keith said hesitantly, sure that they'd both misheard her, that she hadn't really spoken at all, that it was just wishful thinking on both their parts.

"Stop." She said softly again, tears beginning to flow down her face. She repeated it over and over again, softly, to herself, to the room, but now they could hear the mumbled words that were spilling from her ruined mouth.

"Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop…" She trailed off on a broken sob. Keith and Logan were frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

Logan reacted first, moving swiftly towards Veronica, the dim light from the setting sun making the tears on her cheeks glow silver. He touched her shoulder, nearly hitting his knees when she flinched away from him.

"Veronica?" Logan whispered hesitantly. Glancing back at Keith who was standing still as a statue in the same place, tears coursing down his cheeks.

She turned towards him, looking him in the eye, misery etched on her features. "Stop." She whispered before turning back to the window, the blank look once more in place. Her lips continued to move, mouthing the word over and over again, but she was no longer focusing on Logan and Keith. No.

Veronica was focusing on something much worse.

lj-cut text="Part Six"

_Veronica had named her captors. Giving them identities to go with the voices in the dark. She'd never seen their faces, the bright light beyond the door casting them in shadow. Their menacing silhouettes she could identify without even digging out her spy glass._

_Hyde and Jeckyl had kept her locked in a dark room for nearly three months. The scratch marks she'd made in the rough wooden floor had counted the days for her. Pain in her bloody finger tips kept her mind sharp during the passage of time. Fifty eight days had passed since they'd locked her in this damn room. Airless, tight, confined, these were the words that were defining her existence these days._

_They fed her, once a day, which is how she knew to count the days. Veronica felt like a flower, rooted to the ground, fed and watered once per day. She snorted softly to herself. Not so much like a house flower, since she hadn't seen daylight in months. She was positive her tan must be suffering. When her dad found her she'd be pasty white and pale; the glare from her skin would blind him._

_She'd been trying to put the pieces together, to figure out who had kidnapped her, but so far the entire puzzle was eluding her. They were large, they spoke gruffly, and so far neither one had touched her. The room was kept dark, there were no cracks, the door locked daily behind them. There was no way out. She'd tried. _

_The first month was spent trying to find a way, trying to find a crack, an air duct, a blocked over window. She'd scrambled around, searching frantically, before finally giving it up for a lost cause. There were only two ways she was getting out of here. One: if she managed to somehow incapacitate her captors, or two: if she was rescued. The long days passing and her previous attempts told her she wasn't going to get one over on Hyde and Jeckyl. So that left waiting for rescue._

_Rescue. It seemed a dim possibility the longer she waited, the more she shivered and huddled in the corner of the room. They hadn't given her clothing back. One more strategy for keeping her in the bare room. Naked Veronica equaled one highly uncomfortable teenaged girl._

_The door opened, causing Veronica to gasp and push herself further into the corner, pulling her knees up to her chest. She hugged them tightly with her arms, covering herself as best she could while her food and water were left._

"_You're leaving soon." Hyde announced gruffly, voice thick and hoarse. He had an accent, something from a long time ago, so muffled by being in the United States so long that it was unidentifiable._

"_Really? But won't you guys miss me?" Veronica responded, keeping the bite to her tone._

"_You should watch that smart mouth of yours." He didn't bother responding to her question, moving further into the room. _

_This was different. They didn't come into the room. They always left the food on the floor just inside the door. A change in routine could mean nothing but badness was to come._

"_Can't really watch my mouth when I can't see it in the dark." Veronica snarked out, trying to contain her panic. _

_Hyde met Veronica's eyes, the black nothingness in his gaze made her heart stop, then continue beating frantically. The look he gave her was not a nice one; it made her blood run cold. She'd be shaking in her boots right now, if she was wearing boots._

_He moved before she had a chance to prepare herself, grabbing her arm and back-handing her across the mouth. Her head snapped back, glancing off the wall before she could fight the movement. She sat there, stunned, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth as she stared at him. "Love tap?" She questioned quietly, trying to regain her composure._

"_I've had enough of that smart mouth. Told you often enough you should learn to keep it shut." He bit out, before placing his hand around her throat. Ham hands, that's what Hyde had. It spanned her throat, fingers easily wrapping around the tender flesh, nearly touching at her spine. He squeezed, stealing the breath from her, harder, and she couldn't breathe at all._

_Veronica wasn't sure how it happened, when it happened, how much time had passed. She fought, kicking, trying to scream, hands scratching at his arm. He had her on her back in seconds, his pants undone, slamming into her before he let her draw a breath._

_It hurt. _

_Veronica's mind struggled frantically, even as she felt the world receding around her. The blackness at the edge of her vision, telling her she wouldn't have to be conscious through it, wouldn't have to be awake as he raped her._

_Hyde grunted, shoving himself into her over and over again, grasping at her breast with his free hand, other hand still clutched around her throat. He clenched the fist around her throat rhythmically with his thrusts, allowing her small gasps of air, not wanting her to lose consciousness. _

"_Fuck you, you stupid fucking whore." He bit out, seconds before he jerked and came inside her. Moving slowly away, he kept his hand on her throat, he knew Veronica Mars well now. No matter the indignity she suffered, she'd go for his balls as soon as he moved away._

_Veronica kept her face stoney, staring at the man that had just raped her. Raped her. At least this time she was conscious and could put a face to the revenge plan. He kept his hand around her throat, not tightly, allowing her to breathe as he tucked his limp penis back into his pants. For something so small, Veronica noted detachedly, it caused an awful lot of damage. She could feel his sperm trickling out of her, warm and wet as it ran down the crack of her ass._

"_You'll regret that." Veronica whispered, choking the words out through her constricted throat._

"_Not where you're going, little whore." He laughed, darkly, a stereotypical movie star villain. _

_He punched her in the face once, watching her head snap back, her eyes roll back, with amusement. She wouldn't be able to kick him in the balls now. He stood, doing up his zipper before moving back towards the door, deliberately stepping in the food he'd brought in earlier, kicking over the mug of water._

_The stupid bitch had cost him three months out of his life, and for what? So that he could take her across the border to Mexico and leave her there? He'd been promised violence, a slow death for the snotty little whore, all at his hands, and now he had to let her live. At least living wouldn't be pleasant. Not where she was going._

_Shutting the door behind him, he locked Veronica, once more, in the dark._

"_Yo! Danny! Get your ass out here, time to pack up the bitch and get goin!" He yelled down the hallway. His cousin was dense at times, but a good man to have at his back. Loyal to the death, or at least he better be if he knew what was good for him._

"_We're all ready, car's out back. She out?" Danny asked as he walked back into the room._

"_Not for long, should give her a little taste before we go, keep her quiet." Liam answered, glancing back at the door._

_Danny moved towards the side cupboard, where the good doctor kept supplies when he was over. Their own personal physician, no Fitzpatrick had ever had it so good. Getting the needle ready, Danny tapped it, squeezing a small amount of liquid out, making sure there was no air bubbles. _

"_Little bit of this and she'll be half way to happy land before I even pull the needle out." Danny grinned at Liam. He was part way to the door before Liam stopped him._

"_Let me cover you. She's a feisty one." Liam smirked, stepping in front of Danny and swinging the door wide. Seeing Veronica Mars still unconscious on the floor. "Not so smart mouthed now are you, little girl?" Liam mumbled as Danny moved cautiously forward. They'd learned the hard way, how deceptive the tiny girl was, what a great actress._

"_Shit. I forgot the tie off. Grab it?" Danny cursed as he hovered over the unconscious Veronica Mars. _

_Liam moved to grab the rubber without a word, grunting as he moved back through the door. He froze in shock at the scene that greeted him. _

_Veronica was sitting up, the needle in her hand, and Danny was unconscious on the floor. He'd warned Danny often enough about the Mars' cunning, but apparently he hadn't listened._

"_Let me go." Veronica gritted out between clenched teeth, throat hoarse and scratchy from his earlier treatment._

"_Not a chance, sweet cheeks." Liam stated, moving quickly towards her, watching as she scrambled back from him, pleasure leaking through his entire frame as he saw her fear._

"_Get the fuck away from me!" Veronica screamed, screwing herself back into the corner._

_She didn't have a chance to say anything else, scream cut off suddenly as Liam kicked her in the face. Listening as her head gave a satisfying crunch as it hit the wall. _

_Turning back to his cousin, he shook his head in disgust. Liam knew he was surrounded by idiots, but this, this took the cake. Grabbing the needle that had flown from Veronica's fingers when her head had hit the wall, he moved quickly back out into the living room. Filling it once more, he was back in the room in seconds, no where near enough time for Veronica to regain consciousness. He viciously stabbed the needle into her arm, depressing the plunger. Hopefully there was an air bubble that would kill the little bitch._

_Fingers clutching her hair, he dragged her through the house, out the front door, and threw her into the trunk of the car. Slamming the false bottom down on top of her, he closed the lid with an ominous click. Finally. A few short hours and he'd be rid of the whore forever._

_Back into the house, Liam hefted Danny up and over his shoulder, disgusted at the drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. Happy land indeed. He carried Danny through the house, throwing him into the back seat of the car to sleep it off. Liam wanted this day over, to be rid of the bitch, and his cousin, for a good long while._

_Sliding into the drivers seat, he stabbed the key into the ignition, the engine roaring to life. Foot on the gas peddle, he flew out down the dirt path. _

_Only a couple of hours to Mexico._

_The world was tilting, shifting and moving underneath her. Awareness teased at the edge of her mind. There was something, something she was supposed to be remembering, something she was supposed to know. The world shifted again, and the pain set it, taking over. Veronica's hands came up, trying to stop the world from spinning, touching flesh instead._

_Soft, sweaty skin under her hands._

_Veronica's eyes flew open, staring at the rough planked ceiling, the hairy shoulder pressing against her face. She took in the grunting, the foul smell, gagging as the man jerked over her. She drew her arm back, moving to hit the man on top of her, hand balled into a fist as she connected._

_He fell off her with a shriek, startled, yelling invectives she couldn't understand. His fat florid face spitting at her as he shouted. _

_She couldn't get her bearings, couldn't understand what was going on. Her mind refused to work. Head whipping towards the door when a large man came through, an angry scowl on his face, a large big breasted woman right behind him._

_Veronica tried to focus, shaking her head to try and clear it. The angry florid man that had been on top of her when she'd first woken up, yelled at the big breasted woman. She gesticulated angrily, before moving towards the bed, grabbing Veronica's face. _

_Her breath smelled. Teeth rotting in her mouth, her breath smelled like rotted fruit, sickeningly sweet, yet sour at the same time. Veronica barely managed to choke back the vomit that rose in her throat, trying to turn her face away._

"_So ya despertastes cabrona[1]." She spat into Veronica's face, her foul breath making Veronica retch._

_Trying to pull free of the woman's grasp she said the only thing she could think of. "I don't understand."_

"_Bueno precio para una chica blanca. Mis clientes van a pagar mucho para ti [2]." Smiling a gap toothed smile, she let go of Veronica's face, nodding towards the large man standing behind her._

_Veronica shrunk back against the rough canvas sheet, trying to get away from the brute that was coming towards her. Whatever was happening, wherever she was, nothing good could come of him touching her. There was no where to run, no where to hide, eyes sliding to the naked sweat slicked man standing beside the bed. Seeing the satisfaction, the anticipation in his eyes, she knew there was nothing she could do._

_The gentle touch of the larger man's fingers on her hair had her flinching, the feel of them tangling in the dirty tresses made her cry out, the fist he clenched and pulled made her scream. _

"_Eso es. Grita para me, puta[3]." He grunted, before slapping her roughly across the face. _

_The fat woman and naked man filed out of the room, leaving Veronica at the brute's tender mercies._

"_Dale una lección ella no olvidará." [4]The woman spoke over her shoulder without glancing back._

_The brute, as Veronica had dubbed him in her mind, gave a nasty smile, never letting go of her hair, as his hand came up again. She lost consciousness after the third hard punch to her face, the taste of blood on her tongue, the stench of her fear filling the room. _

_It was the last thing she remembered, the last thing she tasted, before the room blacked out around her. _

_A day, a night, a month, a year, time passed without mention. Veronica had never spent so much time flat on her back. Or her knees for that matter. She'd fought, she'd cursed, she'd thrown punches, and all she got for her trouble was beatings that left her unconscious and easy meat for the revolving door of men who came to the room. Reality intruded, the three days that Veronica had actually been in the brothel seemed like a lifetime. There was no sense making it into a longer period of time. _

_Yesterday, the bitch in charge, had brought her food, finally, and some water. Veronica had nearly choked on it, eating as fast as she could before it was taken away. Dark haired and mean eyed, the fat woman had sat on the bed and tried to stroke Veronica's hair._

_Veronica had been revolted, nearly throwing up the food she'd just consumed._

"_It wouldn't be so bad if you didn't fight so hard." Nodding at Veronica, the fat lady had pointed to the food. "You could eat every day, if you'd just behave." She had picked up the cup of water, holding it up to Veronica, watching the wariness creep in, overshadow the hunger. Shaking the cup back and forth, she had sloshed a little bit of the water onto the rough sheet, causing Veronica to cry out._

_Psych 101, gain your target's trust. The fact that the evil bitch had switched to English was not lost on Veronica. The fat lady was trying to incite trust. Veronica snorted inside her head, like she was going to trust anyone who kept her chained to a bed. She had enough of a hard time trusting people who gave her everything. Veronica's mind flashed on Logan, the way he'd looked at her the day of the field trip, the love shining in his eyes. She knew he was still looking for her, he wouldn't give up hope. The precious droplets of water left a dark stain spreading across the coarse threads, and Veronica stared for a moment, breathing harshly as thoughts of Logan were driven out of her mind._

_Snatching the cup from the woman's hands, Veronica had gulped it down, glancing furtively over the top of the cup at her captor. There was nothing remarkable about her. Fat face, acne scars, greasy lank hair, and, bad teeth._

_Veronica had been unable to investigate much of the room, the chain around her ankle preventing her from leaving the bed. Her legs ached, her back hurt, the various bruises she was sporting throbbed with every small movement she'd made. Veronica had been beaten unconscious every time she fought back. All at the request of the woman sitting in front of her. _

"_Fuck you." Veronica had said, voice sweet, saccharine, as she cursed the bitch in front of her._

_Nodding her head, the woman had pressed the cup against Veronica's lips, watching in satisfaction as Veronica drained the rest of the water away. "Good girl." She had tried once again to pet Veronica's hair, scowling when Veronica pulled her head away._

_Sitting on the bed, the chain heavy around her ankle, Veronica had watched as the woman rose from the bed, leaving the room. The room had tilted, slid on its axis, before tumbling out from beneath her. She'd felt sleepy, tired, sated, floating on a cloud of indifference as the first man entered the room. Veronica had lain there, barely conscious as he climbed on top of her, pressing her back into the bed, grunting and sweating. She'd ceased to care about disease, the foul smell, the world around her. She'd been numb._

_Today, when the crazy witch came to sit while Veronica ate the food she'd brought, Veronica grabbed the glass of water first, gulping it down. If she was numb, if she was gone, she wouldn't have to remember, wouldn't have to count the days, wouldn't have to wonder at the blood on her thighs. Veronica wouldn't have to be conscious while they…_

_Veronica broke that thought off before it had a chance to begin. She just needed to rest. Needed to let go, just for a little while._

_Floating on her cloud of indifference, she didn't bother with the food, didn't bother pulling away when the woman stroked her hair. Today would all be a hazy memory, the day she gave up, if only for a moment. It would be gone the moment her father found her._

_Shaking. Her body trembled with the effort to hold her head up. She'd fought one of the men. Determined to break free, she'd managed to knee him in the balls before big and dozy came barreling through the door. Veronica fought him too. She'd kicked at him, managing one solid bare footed kick to the balls before he'd backhanded her into the wall._

_She'd pretended to be unconscious, watching her breathing, keeping still as the old witch came into the room. Veronica knew the routine now. They'd unlock her, take her to the back of the whore house for medical attention, give another girl the room Veronica was in, for the day. Veronica had been in the back room often enough in the first days. Her need to escape, to fight her tormentors took over the more sober she got, leading to more frequent beatings._

_Veronica knew she could escape. They left her alone in that room, if she could just get outside, call for help. There had to be tourists around, had to be someone out there that could help her. She'd had enough of doing nothing._

_Body weak, starved, craving the drug they'd pressed on her daily, she fought not to make a sound as she was carried roughly to the backroom._

_She waited, tense, for the moment she was left alone, unchained and unguarded in the dark. Veronica waited with her breath held as the door to the room closed behind the big brute._

_Cautiously she blinked open her eyes, making sure she was alone, before slowly climbing to her feet. There was a cut out where a window used to be in the corner of the room. A tiny opening in the wall that was just big enough for Veronica to shimmy through. The clutter of old boxes gave her something to stand on as she reached for the hole. Fingers scrabbling on the rough wooden edge as she pulled herself up. Careful not to make a sound, she was half way through the opening when she felt the hand on her ankle._

_Panic took over, tears coursing down her cheeks as she kicked at the person holding her ankle. She wanted out, wanted to go home. She thrashed, screamed, nearly vomited as her leg was wrenched hard. Falling back through the window._

_The floor was an awfully long way down. The force of the brute's jerk on her ankle spun her slightly in the air. Crashing down, the ground rushing up to meet Veronica. The jagged metal of an old engine hidden in the darkness below the window met her eyes, seconds before she hit it._

_The world exploded around her, bright lights, then nothing._

_Nothing._

_Her face hurt. Throbbing in time to the ocean roaring in her head. Logan, she thought, we must have fallen asleep at the beach, it's his shirt digging into my cheek. _

_Veronica shifted, trying to sit up, eyes flying open in panic when she couldn't. Hands held her down as she tried to scream, blood filling her mouth. The jagged ends of her cheek flapping against the side of her face._

_She opened her mouth to scream once more, eyes rolling back as the pain sent her crashing into unconsciousness._

[1] So, you're awake, little bitch.

[2] Good price for a little white girl. My customers will pay much for you.

[3] That's it. Scream for me, bitch.

[4] Teach her a lesson she won't forget.

Veronica sat up in bed gasping, hands clutching at the side of her face. Eyes wide, searching the room for the large Mexican man that had been her shadow, there. He'd been her shadow there. Eyes flitting around the room, she searched the corners, watching the shadows jump, hearing the steady beep of the heart monitor, before finally settling down.

It was only a dream. A nightmare.

The bandages had come off earlier that day. Surgery, to repair some of the damage to her face. Long, intensive hours of surgery. They'd replaced her cheekbone, part of her jaw, removed the excess scar tissue from her cheek. They'd even let her look in the mirror. The first time in nearly four years that she'd seen herself in the mirror.

There had been tears, hers, Logan's, her… father's. Veronica still wasn't comfortable calling the man her father. She couldn't remember, not quite, but he was almost there. At the edges of her mind, laughing and flashing his shiny star in her face, blinding her with his absolute love of life.

The man that came to visit her was a shadow of the memory man.

Rolling over in the bed, she caught sight of him in the chair. Keith Mars. Her father.

He was sleeping, head tilted back, a little bit of drool at the corner of his mouth. Veronica knew, if she was herself, if she was the Veronica she almost remembered, she'd reach over and wipe that little bit of drool away, would smooth the crease in his brow. But she wasn't that girl anymore. She wasn't sure what she was anymore.

Reaching out a tentative hand, she hesitated, moved closer, paused, and wiped her finger at the corner of his mouth. Watching as his eyes instantly opened.

"Hey." Keith muttered tiredly, grabbing her hand, pulling back quickly when her panicked gaze flew to his. "Sorry, honey." Keith said apologetically, holding out his hand for her to take. For her to decide it was safe.

Sometimes it felt like they were playing a game of cat and mouse. One step forward, five steps back. Keith caught glimpses of his girl, a moment, two, and then she's gone hiding behind the mask she wore most days. Hunting through the subterfuge to find the traces of his daughter. Most days it didn't feel like they'd made any progress at all. But she took his hand, smiling crookedly as she traced the calluses on his palms.

Veronica had spoken twice more since the first time. She'd asked Logan to stop, to stop moving, to stop pacing, to just stop. The second time was after the cheek surgery. She'd said hurts. Muttered it, before pressing the good side of her face into Keith's hand.

He'd lost it that day. Bawled for the loss of his baby girl, for the loss of Veronica all over again. He'd managed to do it in the comfort of the hotel, far away from where she was, but he knew she'd figured it out. There was something in her eyes when he'd walked back through the door, a shrewd knowing that hadn't been there before. Keith had never felt like a bigger heel than he had at that moment. He'd known in that instant that Veronica was more aware of what was actually wrong with her than she was able to communicate. Of course she would be, she was Veronica Mars.

"You should sleep, honey." Keith broke into his inner thoughts, whispering to Veronica as she continued to trace the lines in his palm.

"Sleep." Veronica hushed out. Barely a breath of sound leaving her lips, a mere exhale of breath in the still room.

Tugging Keith's hand, she placed it on her pillow, pressing the good side of her face against it, and closed her eyes.

The breath caught in Keith's throat, caught in his chest as he watched Veronica fall asleep. On his hand.

Agent Steven Greene kept a close eye on Veronica Mars. He was kept updated of her progress, her set backs, the various things she'd done that had sent her father and Logan skidding out of the room on numerous occasions. He wanted to know, needed to see how she was doing after her ordeal.

Telling himself that he shouldn't get attached, couldn't afford to get attached, that Veronica was just another victim, had done no good. Steven needed to know every detail of the case, from Veronica's care, to the actual case file. This was a case that could make or break his career, and it would pay to know every precious little detail.

He'd done what he'd been taught to do. He followed the money trail, but this time he'd followed it backwards. With the new information, the whorehouse in Mexico, Steven had been able to trace the money paid to the whorehouse to take a white American female to Liam Fitzpatrick. The money Liam Fitzpatrick had taken from Aaron Echolls. The previous Agent assigned to the case had been methodical in his reports, which had made Steven's job so much easier. The assessment of the payout to the whorehouse in Mexico was documented, as well as the amount of time the Fitzpatrick's had been on the run at the time expenditure. The original fifty grand paid to Liam Fitzpatrick had gone through several subsidiary companies and lawyers, but had eventually been traced back to Aaron Echolls. The original payout to the whorehouse had been written off as inconsequential since the Liam Fitzpatrick and Danny Boyd were already on the run from the United States. Liam's bank account had been frozen shortly after, and no further money trail was available to track their progress through Mexico.

The original Agents had all concluded that Liam Fitzpatrick and Danny Boyd had been paid by Aaron Echolls to blow up the school bus Veronica Mars was riding that day, to take out the lead witness, technically the only witness, in the Aaron Echolls trial. The new information painted an altogether different picture.

Greene had reviewed the file thoroughly, making his own notes and the new image staring back at him was a much grimmer reality. Aaron Echolls had paid the Fitzpatrick's to kidnap Veronica Mars, the day of the bus crash. Liam Fitzpatrick and Danny Boyd had held Veronica captive for a little over three months, and then taken her across the border. Steven surmised that they had either been waiting for the search for the missing bus crash victims to be called off, before taking Veronica Mars across the border, or that something had gone wrong in the original plan.

Following the money always paid off.

This led Steven to the crux of the matter. If the money that the Fitzpatrick's had been paid was to kidnap and kill Veronica Mars, and not to set off the crash that had killed nine people, then who had caused the bus crash?

The case had been reopened, but with Aaron Echolls lying stone cold in the ground, the evidence trail had gone gold. Unless they performed a miracle they might never figure out who had caused the bus crash. Aaron Echolls had been sentenced and executed, pleading guilty to the crime. Apparently not wanting Veronica to be found was more important than his own life. Devious fucking bastard that he was, he'd gone to his grave with the knowledge.

Any chance they'd had of catching the actual bomber was gone, lost to time and an idiotic Sheriff. It was a little comfort to Steven that Sheriff Lamb had been demoted years ago, and had finally left Neptune for good. All the evidence told Steven that the former Sheriff was nothing but a waste of a good badge.

Slowly walking down the hallway, Steven nodded at Elena and Stephie, the two nurses working the night shift. Listening at Veronica's door for a minute he ascertained that she was either not in her room, or asleep. Turning the knob slowly he peaked through the opening, seeing the girl's father sitting in a chair by the bed, and Veronica asleep with her cheek resting on his hand.

"Hello, Mr. Mars." Steven spoke formally, unsure of exactly what he should be saying in this situation. Keith hadn't been friendly the last time they'd spoken.

"Hello, Agent Greene." Keith spoke just as softly, not wanting to wake Veronica from her sound slumber. He didn't look up, didn't take his eyes off of Veronica's relaxed face.

"I have news." Steven moved further into the room, closer to where Keith was sitting. "About Veronica's case." He clarified as Keith finally looked at him.

"Yes?" Keith questioned, finally looking interested.

"Aaron Echolls paid Liam Fitzpatrick and Danny Boyd to kidnap your daughter. Aaron was aware of the bus crash and used that to his advantage, changing the plan from murder to slavery." Steven said the words, but still had a hard time believing that anyone could be that deviant, that twisted. To sell a young girl, knowing specifically what it would do to _this_ particular girl.

"The Fitzpatrick's?" Keith questioned again, not really surprised by the news at all.

"Liam Fitzpatrick and Danny Boyd have been arrested on kidnapping charges and human trafficking. As soon as we got them into an interrogation room they spilt like over ripe fruit, spilling everything about Aaron Echolls involvement. Apparently kidnapping and human trafficking were better charges than eight counts of murder. Sentencing should be fairly quick considering we found their victim alive." Steven nodded in satisfaction. The Fitzpatrick's would be spending a long time in jail, if they didn't get killed first.

"Then the bus crash? That wasn't Aaron, was it?" Keith hit the heart of the matter, barely pausing to let Steven catch up in the thought process.

"Not from what we can tell. We've reopened the case, but the evidence. The original agents thought they had the answers so they only paid attention to the evidence that supported their theories. Trying to go back and find the real answers now is going to be difficult. You know as well as I do, if the right path isn't followed when the evidence is actually collected, going back and trying to re-examine someone else's steps is next to impossible." Steven admitted, defeat strong in his voice.

"Well you got this far, I'm sure you'll figure it out. If not, call me, I am a private dick, after all." Keith joked weakly, thinking of the crash, of Veronica, of the hell she'd been through because of those men.

"I'll figure it out, Keith. I promise you, I'll get to the bottom of the crash. It started it all." Steven stated, voice gone hard with determination.

"Like I said, if you need any help." Keith made the offer again, watching as Steven nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind." Steven stood for a moment, feeling uncomfortable. He felt like he was intruding on father daughter time, even though Veronica was sound asleep. "I'm just going to head out, just thought I'd check on her before I head home for the day." Steven said, turning to move towards the door.

"Do you do that often? Check on my daughter?" Keith asked, genuinely curious.

"At least once a week. She's…" he paused searching for the right word, "Veronica's special." He finally settled on, because there really wasn't anything else that worked.

"I know. She always has been." Keith's voice held his fondness, his pride in everything about his daughter. "She was born running and never stopped. There was a little bit of embarrassment at the parent teacher interviews when my daughter surpassed my level of intelligence at the age of seven." Rolling his eyes at the memory, Keith chuckled. "Not to mention the fact that trouble always followed her, even before Lilly Kane died." Keith admitted softly, thinking back to those years. The years when Veronica was happy and whole.

"I'm sure she'll leave you in the dust again. She's pretty remarkable to begin with." Steven spoke with admiration in his voice. "I've read her file, I've talked to her friends. Even the damn Fitzpatricks were a little afraid of her." Steven laughed for a moment before going quiet. "I'll leave you two alone."

With those words he was out the door, not waiting for Keith to say anything else.

There are scars on her skin, hard knots of twisted white flesh trailing across her ruined body like a treasure map of pain, agony, leading the viewer to the horrified conclusion of the torture she'd endured. They're inked into her flesh, permanent, without the pleasure a needle could bring.

Logan sees them by accident, a moment too early, a second too late, he's still not sure which, and he sees the nightgown sliding down her bare back, catching on the stiff puckered scars as it goes. He can't stop the gasp that escapes his throat, can't stop the tears that rush to his eyes.

A thought so fleeting he refuses to give it the power it could have, flits through his mind: Veronica is finally more damaged outwardly than he's ever been.

She hears his gasp, spins to face him, fear, terror lighting her features before she realizes who's in the room. Who he is; and she smiles.

He's left standing there, chest constricted, tears stuck in his throat, and she's smiling at him. Veronica is smiling like she doesn't understand why he wants to cry. Unaware of the scattered path that leads the way down a dark hole of despair.

She speaks now, sometimes, late at night when there's no one around to hear her. One word sentences that tear him down, remake him, one syllable at a time. Veronica is comfortable with him, with her father, she moves, putters around the small hospital room. At least she would until a nurse came to check on her, then she would retreat behind the blank mask she wore so often.

"Hey, baby." Logan said softly as she smiled. The map of trauma still playing through his mind.

She nodded once, moving to sit in the chair by her window. Her favorite chair. Logan knew that this was his cue to sit down beside her, to carry on their nightly, one sided, conversation. Moving slowly, he sat, choking down the emotion that threatened to break lose, trying to stay calm.

"I saw your dad when I was coming in." Logan stated, getting comfortable for the long night ahead. Veronica refused to sleep, unless sedated. It started not long after the second surgery on her face, the one to fix her jaw bone. She had nightmares, night terrors more like, that woke her screaming in the darkness. Heart pounding, shaking, sweating with fear. They were the worst part, watching her in that much earth shattering terror and not being able to do anything to help.

So Logan decided that night time was his time. He sat with her, talked to her, learned her all over again.

"How was your day today?" Logan paused, waiting for a response, knowing that it probably wouldn't come. "I slept all day, something you should try." Smiling gently at her, he continued, barely pausing for breath. "I thought about you, about something to tell you, something that you might enjoy." Logan grinned at the memory he had chosen, the one that screamed, 'Veronica Mars is smarter than me.'

"We weren't speaking, it was… during that time I'd told you about." Not long after the night terrors had started, Logan had talked about Lilly, told Veronica of the girl that shone her light on everything she touched, before tearing it down around their ears. "We hated each other." He laughed at her look of disbelief. No matter how many times he told her they'd hated each other, once upon a time, she seemed to refuse to believe him. "Trust me, we hated each other. You were trying to outwit the Pacific Coast Highway Bike Club, pitting yourself against the local sheriff. Outwitting him at ever turn and you decided that I was going to be your scapegoat, your in, into the evidence locker." Logan thought back, trying to remember the exact details of the things she'd shared with him during that summer. The summer before, as he called it.

"You'd convinced, bribed, blackmailed, I'm still not sure which. But you'd convinced this stoner dude, Corny, to make you a bong." At her look of confusion he quickly elaborated. "A bong is a thing that you smoke illegal drugs out of." Logan watched her nod, waited for her comprehension before continuing. "You planted said bong in my locker, just in time for the sheriff to come and search my belongings. Spent a long afternoon in jail for that one." Veronica had a look of distaste on her face. "It was the moment I realized what a formidable opponent you really were. Veronica Mars was always smarter than me." Logan looked down, thinking back, missing his Veronica. "I was just a common thug with a lot of money." Smirking, he glanced up, seeing the twinkle in Veronica's eyes.

"What? You think I wasn't a common thug? I'll have you know…" He paused dramatically, watching as she leaned forward in her seat, "I'll have you know that I once broke the headlights on your car. Retaliation for the bong prank." Logan smirked as Veronica's jaw dropped open. "Told you I was a thug." Patting her knee, he smiled at her, watching her face for any reaction.

"You stood me up for our date, accused me of rape, got me out of jail, on more than one occasion by the way. But through it all?" He nodded at her, watching as her hand reached out, careful not to move, not to frighten her, wanting to see if she'd touch him. She didn't. "Through it all, I knew you were there. Even when we weren't speaking, except to spew insults at each other, I knew that you were there." He paused, thinking over his words, unsure what he was trying to get across to her. "Does that make sense?"

Veronica nodded, finally moving forward, taking that extra step, and placing her hand on his knee, patting rhythmically. Logan's breath stuttered in his throat. Trapped, rattling, before bursting out in a loud exhale.

"Okay. Sometimes, I manage to confuse myself." Logan shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to think of something else to say. "Oh. I brought you something. I hoped it might help you sleep." Pulling the small stuffed bear out of his back pocket, he extended it towards her, waiting patiently while she carefully examined it. "It says, 'I luv you beary much.' Laughing loudly when she rolled her eyes at him. A very Veronica expression.

"Okay, so that was stupid." Logan shook his head again, this time, self depreciatingly. "I saw it in the gift shop downstairs. Thought it might keep you company when we're not here." Smiling, he reached forward, patting her knee again.

Nodding, but not taking her eyes off the bear, she looked up, tears in her eyes. "Logan?" She said hesitantly, voice soft and rusty with disuse.

"None of that, Veronica." Logan said sternly, playfully.

"Was it," she hesitated again, a look of consternation on her face before she breathed out, "won through some form of ring tossing ability?" She shrank back into the chair, face pressed to the fleece of the fuzzy white arm.

"Veronica?" Logan whispered, tearing up, the long ago words she'd spoken to him, breaking down his walls. He had nothing left. No armor, no steel plating, no wall to protect him from the memory that was tearing at his insides. "Veronica?" He asked again, leaning forward in his seat, terrified to hope.

"I want to go home." Veronica stated, the sound muffled by the bear clutched in her arms. "I want to go home, Logan." She turned to look at him, turned the clock back with the look in her eyes.

Determination.

_It was so dark there. The sounds from the other room were a soothing lullaby as Veronica tried to fall asleep. Her day was over. Mama had given her water, tried to make her eat. The room had spun dizzily around her. The man had come again. Veronica tried to remember, the fifth time, sixth? She couldn't quite place how many times he'd been to see her._

_She knew she hated him, dreaded him coming to visit. His visits always meant pain. Lots of pain washed in blood. The water was drugged. She knew the water was drugged but it took everything away, made the world disappear. The man, he took from her, took something out of her every time he came. He cut, dug, scraped until it was gone. Washed in blood._

_Veronica tried to make sense of her thoughts, tried to understand what was happening, but nothing worked anymore. She hurt, all over, the pain in her belly forced her legs up, trying to relieve it. The sounds from the other room washed over her, but she didn't listen, not really. She couldn't. She wouldn't be doing that for a while, not this time, that time, all the times he'd been to visit. She got to rest for a little while, sleep in the dark until the blood washed away._

_Puzzling it out as her blinks got longer, she thought about the man. He took something away, a little piece of her at a time. Something she should want, something she didn't. Nothing made any sense any more, her thoughts were jumbled, stuck together with tape and glue. A grade school science project inside her head. _

_She trembled, shook, the blood flowing faster as she tried to make sense of the pain. Through the pain. Her eyes closed, the sound of a baby crying jerking her awake. A baby crying. A baby. He'd taken away her babies._

_Sitting straight up and screaming, Veronica passed into unconsciousness as the physical pain became too much._

_He'd taken her babies._

Veronica made progress. Her lucid periods became longer, more profound. She cried. Veronica Mars cried and let everyone around her see.

The periods where she would stare out the window, lost in thought, lost to the room around her, became fewer. More disturbing. She didn't laugh, she didn't smile, but it was progress.

Keith and Logan had been at the hospital in Los Angeles for six months now. Six months of watching her suffer, ignoring their own lives to take care of her. They smothered her, wanted what was best for her, forgot about themselves.

Alicia, Wallace, and Daryll, had made the trip the month previous, staying in the same hotel that Keith and Logan had rooms in. The same hotel that Keith and Logan barely visited. They'd yet to see Veronica. She was cloistered in the hospital, unwilling, unable to take visitors.

Duncan Kane, Meg Manning, Eli Navarro, Dick Casablancas, Beaver Casablancas, and Cindy 'Mac' MacKenzie made up the rest of their happy little family. They'd showed up not long after Wallace. Trailing behind the Fennel family like a group of lost little puppies. Wagging their tails behind them. They drove each other nuts, arguing, fighting, screaming at each other. Mac and Beaver disappeared at odd times together, Dick and Wallace hated each other. Meg, Duncan, and baby Lilly were happy as clams far away from Momma Celeste and Daddy Kane.

They'd yet to see Veronica. In fact, they'd yet to be allowed inside the hospital where Veronica was located. Not the extended family. Veronica wasn't ready for the Fennels yet, which meant she definitely wasn't ready to be inundated with well wishing crying friends from a past she barely remembered.

Logan tried to meet them at least once a week for dinner, drinks, or just a quick meeting in the room to update them on her progress. Little by little Veronica Mars was coming back to him, them, the whole family.

It was all about routine. Routines drove their group, bonded the family, made Veronica the center of all their thoughts. They breathed with ferocity, waiting, watching Logan for the smallest sign that it was time. It was all about routine.

Wallace drove with Keith to the hospital in the mornings, spending his days pestering the nurses, sitting in the visitor's lounge, and standing outside Veronica's door. Staring at the whiteness, the door knob, everything, heart pounding that Keith might catch him, that Logan would show up early. He'd reached for the door knob on more than one occasion, his fingers had actually touched the cool metal twice, before he heard Keith's voice in his head, urging him to put Veronica first.

His hand would fall away, the guilt would rise up in his chest, and he'd be turning around heading back towards the visitor's lounge. Wallace knew there was only so long that Keith's gentle prodding would be able to keep him away. Only so long that Logan's death glare would keep him out of that room. Only so long.

Today was the day. Today was the day he went in, saw Veronica, proved to himself that she was alive. His step-sister, best friend, only friend for a long time. The girl who'd been through so much and survived every step of the way.

Standing in front of the door, Wallace glanced back at the nurses station, smiling at Elena who was just coming on shift. She was definitely a crazy old bird, the way she hit on Logan all the time. She'd even hit on Wallace a few times, teasing, insincere, but uncomfortable making just the same.

Wallace turned back to the door with determination. Something he'd learned from Veronica. Never back down, always get your man. Today, Wallace thought, today I'm going to get Veronica back.

His hand reached out, pulling back before he made contact, staring at the door. She was alone, Keith had left ten minutes ago to go down to the cafeteria for lunch. She was alone in the room, he could go in, speak with her, maybe hug her and things would, they'd be normal again. Or as normal as they can be after you'd been through what she had.

New determination filled him, resolve, as he reached for the door handle, turning it quickly before he could change his mind. One step, two, and he was in the room staring at the pale, wraith-like figure sitting by the window.

Pale blonde hair glittered in the sunlight, thin shoulders moved when she breathed, but she didn't turn. Not at first. Wallace took in her back, her posture, letting his gaze travel over her, memorizing and comparing to the Veronica he remembered. She was thinner, frailer, but the posture was the same, the hunch to her shoulders.

When he didn't move further into the room, Veronica turned her head to see who was in the room with her. Her father would have spoken, moved closer. Logan would have called her baby before sitting in the chair next to her. This person, stood silent, still, waiting for her to turn around.

Her head swiveled, flinching when the man in the doorway gasped at the sight of her face. She froze, face going blank, being pulled away from the room, from the man standing behind her.

"Veronica? It's me… Wallace?" He stepped forward, watching her body language, another skill he'd picked up from her in their short friendship.

She was still frozen, barely breathing, face carefully blank as she stared at the man before her. He was dark, like… the people there. Darker skinned, but he was dark. Veronica was sure she was having a nightmare, or living one. The hospital, her father, Logan, it had all been a dream and she was really back where she started.

Letting her eyes dart around the room, she didn't see the hospital she'd been living in for months, didn't see the comforting machines that had helped her recover. Veronica saw rough wooden planks, rough woolen cover over a half rotted bed. She saw the chains that had kept her in place when she fought. She saw Mama standing in the corner, the woman who had owned her, body and soul.

Veronica watched as Mama nodded at her, pointing to the man standing in the corner. Frozen, fear, but Mama scowled and Veronica was moving. There would be punishment if she didn't… if she wasn't compliant. There would be beatings, starvation, sitting in her own piss for hours on end as it itched and ate away at her skin.

Standing, she moved slowly, hesitantly towards the man in the room, watching as he smiled, arms open. He was one of those, she thought, one of the ones that wanted to pretend to love her. They were the worst, the ones that always broke her down, tore her to pieces, but at least she wouldn't have to entertain anyone for weeks, as she healed once more.

Close enough, now, to smell his cologne, the clean scent of his skin, and she paused. Confusion warred with compliance, and she slid slowly to her knees, hands going to the buckle on his belt. She heard him gasp, watched as he moved quickly away from her. Mama stood in the corner shaking her head at Veronica. Veronica crawled towards him, afraid of Mama, of the punishment to come if she didn't…

Wallace gasped in horror, back up against the door as Veronica shuffled forward on her knees, watching the blankness still on her face. He knew, she wasn't his Veronica, this wasn't his best friend from high school.

"Veronica, stop." He whispered out, unsure of what else to do. Sighing in relief when she stopped, sitting down on her feet, hands folded neatly in her lap. "Go back to the chair, please." He pleaded, hesitant, heart beating frantically in his chest. "Please." He said again, watching as she stood slowly, moving back to her chair.

Glancing into the shadows where Mama stood disapprovingly, Veronica hung her head. Staring at the floor and then the mask descended. Mama disappeared and so did what was left of Veronica's free will. She sat in the chair, staring out the window, at nothing, at the past four years of her life.

Wallace was out the door, knees trembling as he gasped for air. His legs gave out, he hit the floor, and the tears came. Sliding down his cheeks unheeded as he saw in his mind, what Veronica had done.

"You went in, didn't you?" Keith's gentle voice spoke from Wallace's left side. Gentle, soft, soothing, with just a hint of steel.

Unable to speak, slowly nodded his head, trembling from head to toe.

"I did warn you." Keith murmured, helping Wallace to his feet. "She's not the girl you remember." Keith's tone was sad, distraught, but firm.

"Why would she…" Wallace trailed off unsure of what to ask, how to tell Keith that his daughter had gone to her knees before him.

"There was an orderly, not long after Logan and I got here, dark skinned, Spanish, maybe Mexican. She had the same reaction. It wasn't Veronica." Keith shook his head sadly, remembering the words the doctor had told him at the time. "It's called PTSD. Post traumatic stress disorder. She has these… flashbacks… we're not sure what causes them but until we figure it out…" Keith trailed off meaningfully.

"I won't…" Wallace reassured, still shaking in fear at what he'd witnessed. "She's never going to get better is she?" He voiced his fears, all of their fears, voice breaking on the words.

"She's never going to be the Veronica you knew again, no." Keith stated, his own tears starting to flow. Silver tracks for a girl that didn't have the chance to live. "But she will get better." Keith stated firmly, wiping at the moisture on his cheeks with trembling fingers.

"Go back to the hotel, sit with your mother. I'll be back later tonight when Logan gets here." Keith moved to go back in the room, leaving a distraught Wallace behind him.

"Keith?" Wallace asked hesitantly, voice a bare whisper in the hall.

Turning back, Keith took in Wallace's pallid face, the tear tracks staining his skin. "Yes?"

"Tell her I love her. Tell her…" Wallace trailed off, unsure of what other message he should be sending to the broken girl in the room.

"She already knows." Keith smiled before turning, disappearing into the room once more.

Veronica was sleeping when Logan arrived. Peaceful, a mirror image of the girl she had been, the girl Logan was determined she would be again.

Keith motioned Logan out into the hall.

"Wallace saw her today." Keith's low rumble made Logan's heart clench, made his stomach tremble.

"And?" he whispered out, sure of how the encounter had gone.

"It was bad. She's sleeping because she's exhausted." Keith rubbed at his face, a now familiar gesture for Logan. It screamed frustration, exhaustion, a soul that was tired of having to deal with everything. It was a feeling Logan knew all too well.

"How's Wallace?" Logan asked, the anger tinting his voice wasn't reflected on his face, which he kept a blank mask.

"He took it hard of course." Keith shook his head. "I told him not to go in there."

"She taught him too well." Logan smiled at the memory of the gruesome twosome. Veronica and Wallace had run him ragged, spying, scheming, pranking until he'd been ready to pull his hair out. They'd been a sight to behold, striking fear in the hearts of the 09ers.

"She's sleeping, but should be waking up soon. Tell her I love her." Keith stated abruptly, turning to head towards the elevators. It was time he finally told his family the whole truth. He'd been holding it back, holding it in, just in case she wasn't as damaged as they'd first thought. Veronica wasn't as damaged as they'd feared. She was totally broken.

"Night, Keith." Logan called softly, before turning back to the room. Entering slowly, quietly, he watched her sleep.

"Hey, baby." He spoke, as was his ritual, when he entered the room, moving closer to brush a strand of hair from her cheek.

Sitting in the chair, he watched her for a moment, before laying his head back. Exhaustion tugged at his bones, but tonight he wouldn't sleep in the uncomfortable chair. He'd stand guard over her, watch her as she slept, and chase the nightmares away.

A soft sound from Veronica drew his attention. He glanced over at her, watching as she shifted in her sleep. Her nightgown slipped off one shoulder, revealing silver scars in the moonlight. He saw them every day, saw the evidence of her ordeal branded into her skin. He couldn't help but ask, couldn't help but wonder out loud, "How did you survive?" It was a whisper in the dark, it shouldn't have woken her, shouldn't have torn her from her deep sleep. But it did.

Veronica's eyes opened, slowly, sliding on the velvet edge of a sleepy haze. The corner of her lip turned up for a moment, before her whispered voice answered him. "I didn't."

Logan's heart stopped, breath hitching in his throat at the softly whispered words. Veronica's eyes had closed once more, deep asleep. The moment gone from one sigh to the next.

Trying to catch his breath, he stumbled up from the chair, out into the hallway, closing the door quickly behind him. The panic raced through his body, made him tremble, stole what breath he had left.

He was having another panic attack.

Clawing his throat, trying to breath, his vision faded around the edges as he slowly slid down the door. He couldn't breath, couldn't think, the world spun dizzily around him as it began to fade.

Logan Echolls fainted.

In the middle of a hospital hallway, in the dead of night.

Logan Echolls fainted.

The smell was what woke him. Acrid, burning his nose, making him sputter as he opened his eyes. Elena leaned over him, a packet of smelling salts in her hand as she gently patted his face.

Blinking at her, he struggled with himself, fought the dryness in his throat. Fought to speak.

"She didn't survive." He whispered.

Elena smiled in understanding, sympathy etched on her features as she helped him sit up, leaning him back against the door.

"She didn't survive." He breathed out again, breath hitching as the panic tore at him once more.

"She did. She just doesn't know it yet." Elena said, softly, gently, patting his cheek in a grandmotherly fashion.

They sat there for minutes, hours, Logan wasn't sure how long. They sat, Elena comforting him, as the words swirled through his mind.

"Eventually," Elena paused, staring at the top of Logan's bent head, before she resolved to continue, "Eventually, you're going to have to face facts, Logan." Her voice was firm, drawing him out of her soft embrace.

"Facts?" he questioned, still reeling from the words Veronica had spoken in her sleep.

"Facts. She's not the girl you were in love with four years ago. She's not _that _Veronica anymore. She's not Veronica Mars, intrepid girl detective. She can't save the world anymore. Right now, she's struggling to save herself." Elena's tone was gentle, but the truth shone brightly in the words she spoke.

"She was always the one to save me." Logan spoke wistfully, the memories of Veronica welling up in his mind.

"Maybe this time, you have to save her. Just don't go getting a hero complex. Be there for her while she finds her own way." Elena said.

Logan pulled back fully, staring Elena in the face. A light dawned in his eyes, the realization that he'd been doing nothing but trying to bring _his_ Veronica back. He'd expected her to save herself, snap out of it. He'd been expecting to walk into her room and find _his_ Veronica staring back at him, having put everything behind her. It's what she'd always done _before_. Before she'd lost.

"I don't know how." Logan whispered out, softly, unable to voice his fears aloud. He'd never been enough, had always been a royal fuck up. The girl in the room, the one he was still head over heels in love with, she needed so much, needed him to do something. Needed him to be strong, stable, and reliable for her.

"Sometimes that's the first step. Admitting you're not sure what to do." Elena patted his shoulder, then got slowly to her feet. "The next is telling someone you don't know what to do." She smiled, patting his shoulder gently once more. "You've done two steps in one night." Elena smirked, holding out her hand to Logan, a genuine smile lighting her features when he took it. "Let's see what we can do about step three."

"Step three?" Logan questioned softly, regaining his feet, nearly falling when the world shifted under him.

"Yep. Step three. Figuring out what to do without losing your mind." She grinned, patting his back side as they moved towards the nurse's desk.

"I'm not sure I have much of a mind to lose." Logan snarked, grateful to finally be able to do something.

Elena rummaged for a moment, coming up with a small slip of paper in her hand. She turned back to Logan, holding the note aloft. "You ready for this?" She questioned, holding the paper out of his reach.

"I don't think so." He admitted softly.

Elena handed him the paper. "That was the right answer. This is Doctor Jonathon Ross. He's a psychiatrist who specializes in cases like Veronica's."

"This happens often enough to require a specialist?" Logan asked in disbelief, taking the paper to stare at Elena's neat scrawl.

"Too often." Elena said softly, a sad smile on her face. "He's waiting for you to call."

Logan glanced up briefly, away from the paper, meeting Elena's eyes. "Why?" Logan asked, unsure of exactly what he was asking.

"Because she's special and she needs to be surrounded by special people." Elena admitted.

"She always was." Logan smiled briefly, before it fell away. They had a lot of work ahead of them. _ He_ had a lot of work ahead of him.

This time, he'd be the strong one.

Therapy.

Keith hated it, hated the look on Veronica's face every time she stepped from the therapists office. Small, shaking, eyes large, Veronica looked like prey. It was this difference between his bad ass action figure daughter and this girl before him, that made him realize; he's never getting his little girl back.

It was all Logan's idea. The therapy. Logan's idea to subject Veronica to the torture on a daily basis, to make her remember the years she was gone. To make them all remember the years she'd been gone.

Veronica always went in alone, shaking, pallid, fear etched into every line, every scar on her face.

She never came out alone. The ghosts of the past trailed behind her, clutching at her clothes, her hair, the taint of their vile behavior slick against her skin.

"Can you…" Veronica's voice trailed off, hesitant, clutching at Keith's hand as they made their way to the stairwell. They never took the elevator, not anymore. Veronica had one hell of a panic attack after the first time they'd tried. Claustrophobia was the least of her problems. She'd hit her head when she'd fainted, eight stitches to close the gash at the base of her skull. Eight stitches that could have been avoided.

Like now, by taking the stairs.

"Can I what, sweetheart?" Keith asked absently, squeezing her hand in reassurance.

"Can you bring Wallace by again?" Veronica asked softly, voice full of fear.

"You sure?" Keith was looking full at her now, seeing the pallor, the fear, seeing the strength begin to creep back into her eyes.

"No." She answered honestly, torn to pieces at the suggestion. "But I have to."

"I'll ask him tonight when I get back to the hotel." Keith wrapped his arms around Veronica's frail shoulders, pulling her tight against him. He placed a kiss on the top of her head, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo.

The one thing he missed the most. The smell of his daughter's favorite cinnamon scented shampoo, spicy to smell, different. Like she'd been. _Before_. She smelled wrong, like a whisper of a flower bed on a summer breeze. Nothing like his daughter should be.

"Logan?" Veronica breathed out, not really a question, just his name.

"He'll be here tonight." Keith hesitated, wading through the words floating through his mind. "You want him here when Wallace comes to visit?" Keith asked softly, squeezing her closer to him, offering silent support.

"Please." Veronica's head hung in shame, scared she'd never be the girl she used to be. Terrified that she really didn't want to be.

Up the stairs they went, into the darkness. The third floor had a light that didn't shine brightly, dim and flickering it cast their shadows on the wall. "Sure, honey." Keith reassured in his quiet way.

Therapy.

It opened her up, made her cry, broke her down until all that was left was a hallowed out little girl who didn't know which way was up. She was swimming to the surface slowly, ass over teakettle as the memories skewed the path to the top.

Keith Mars hated therapy.

"Hey, baby." Logan spoke as he stepped through the door hesitantly. Keith had informed him of Veronica's request when they'd met at the hotel. A strange request considering what had happened the last time. Veronica barely glanced up, but didn't return his greeting.

Moving further into the room, Logan brushed his hand over her shoulder. "Were you able to take a nap today?" His voice was soft, gentle, but closer to his normal voice than it had been in a long time. The therapist had told him not to coddle Veronica, that speaking to her normally would give her the stability she needed to become stronger. Logan had been having a hard time with it, he wanted to coddle Veronica, if anyone deserved a little soft sympathy it was the girl sitting in front of him.

"No." Veronica's voice was terse, harsher than it had been in the time she'd been back in the states. It was an echo of the past.

Logan was startled, eyes widening at her tone of voice. "Baby?" He questioned softly, unsure of what was happening. The literature Doctor Ross had given him had told him to expect anger somewhere in the healing process, Veronica would get angry. The anger would be directed at nothing, everything, someone, or something. There was no set course that the anger would take, no guarantee that they could predict where the anger would go.

"Is Wallace here?" Veronica asked, her tone softening, still not turning to face Logan standing behind her.

"He's outside." Logan paused, momentarily, before continuing, "We don't have to do this tonight. We have all the time in the world." Logan didn't phrase it as a question, it was a reassurance that she could back out at any time.

"Get him," she paused, voice a mere breath of sound as the panic started to rise up in her, "Please." She tacked on at the end, trying to control her emotions.

One step, two step, three step, four. Four step, three step, two step, and she'd fall flat on her ass. It was all about give and take, give every single memory over to the therapist, and take all the abuse her psyche heaped on her in return.

It was a never ending struggle, tied down with the weight of Mama, Brute, the chains that had held her to the bed. The chains that held her memory hostage, bogged down below the atrocities she'd suffered.

The door opened behind her, but she didn't turn to face it. She waited, taking deep breaths, as Wallace slowly entered the room. Logan moved back to her side, placing his hand gently on her shoulder, lending his support through the reunion.

Veronica knew her shrink was not going to be pleased, she wasn't ready, he wasn't here, so many reasons for him to be angry. Her defiance, the independent streak that had reared it's head during her therapy sessions had told her otherwise. She'd asked to meet Wallace without her therapists approval, without Logan and her father knowing all the facts.

"I can't look at you." Veronica spoke softly, clenching her jaw for a moment to help with the ache in her face. "I'm sorry." She whispered, head bowed.

"It's okay, V." Wallace's voice was just as soft.

Veronica had a flash of a young man, jacket slung loosely over his shoulders, hands buried in his pockets as he hung his head bashfully. Her best friend at the time of her disappearance, she knew he was probably her only real friend.

"Basketball?" She phrased it as a question, unsure of what exactly she was asking. Fleeting images played through her mind of Wallace playing, running down a hard wood floor chasing after an orange ball like his life depended on it.

"I still play," Wallace answered after looking at Logan, not quite understanding what Veronica was asking. "I'm still playing forward, first string starter. Coach says there's some scouts coming to the games now, checking out my fly self." He brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his jacket.

"Basketball," Veronica whispered to herself, willing the images to coalesce in her mind. "You stole a goat." Veronica stated firmly, the image of a goat stuck in the back of a van clear in her mind.

Wallace laughed loudly at the statement, remembering the look on Veronica's face that day. When she'd opened the back of the van to find a goat… the Pan High goat to be exact. "Yah… I stole a goat. You made me give it back though." Wallace mock pouted, more comfortable, moving further into the room. "You always made me do the right thing." Wallace sat on Veronica's hospital bed, hunching in on himself.

"The right thing is a bad thing?" Veronica questioned the foreign concept, rolling it around in her mind until it fit.

"Sometimes the right thing _is_ the bad thing." Wallace grinned, remembering their exploits in high school. "The first day we met, you cut my bare ass down from a flag pole." Wallace spoke fondly, remembering the start of a friendship that had changed his life.

"Flag pole?" Veronica questioned, wanting to know more, but afraid of the onrush of memories the story would probably trigger. The past. It was a scary thing.

"I'd managed to piss off some bikers, Weevil, Felix, the whole gang really. They duct taped my bare ass to the flag pole and left me there for the school to find. The flag pole was out front of the school, just after the parking lot. Everyone was laughing and taking pictures. You? Well you, Ms. Veronica Mars, waded through them and cut me down." Wallace smiled. "I'd probably still be there if it wasn't for you." Wallace claimed, totally untrue, a teacher probably would have cut him down eventually.

"I… saved you?" Veronica spoke, a question, a truth, something she remembered doing once upon a time.

"You saved everyone all the time. It was what you did. Who you were." Wallace's voice took on a sad note, drifting off at the end of his statement.

"Why?" Her voice was soft, tear stricken as she finally turned to face Logan. Still unable to look at Wallace, she faced Logan and asked the question. "Why didn't anyone save me?" The tears tracked down her face, dripping off her chin, fast and quick as they flowed from her glistening eyes.

"Veronica…" Logan broke off as Veronica stood, interrupted, screamed at him.

"You were there! Why didn't you save me!" Shoving Logan away from her, sending him tumbling to the floor. She turned towards the chair she'd been sitting in, sending it crashing across the room. Veronica raged, screaming wordlessly, the sound echoing off the walls. She kicked out at the chair, the visitor's chair, sending it skidding into the wall.

Wallace stood back, unsure of what to say, what to do, watching as Veronica lost her mind. Her hands were clenched into fists, beating away the memories, beating at whatever she was seeing in her mind's eye.

"Why didn't you save me?" She questioned again, slowly sinking to the floor. Her gown bunched under her legs as she shook and trembled on the floor.

"Veronica?" Logan questioned, not daring to move. Glancing at Wallace, watching the shake of his head, neither knew what was going on.

"You were there. In the brothel with Dick." She whispered softly, eyes finally meeting Logan's once more. "You were there."

_It's Monday, or Wednesday, Thursday? Veronica questions. She doesn't know the date, doesn't know the day. She barely knows it's light outside. Trotted out like a show dog to meet and greet the customers of the day, the dim light filtering through the doorway is her only way to gauge the time. _

_Veronica's a little lost and really high, sometimes she even manages to forget her own name. There's a dark haired boy that swims from the depths of her memory, smiling and laughing before he breaks her glass. She's not sure what type of glass anymore, that memory is swimming in the abyss of the drugs they've pumped into her system. A cesspool of almost memories all tangled up and tied together._

_Today was her day, first day, last day, the day to perform and jump through hoops. She was allowed out of the backroom that morning, the room where they all recuperated after a client went too far, too much, too fast, left them damaged. Mama had patted her head and spoon fed her water before patting her bottom and sending her out front._

_Maybe today, Veronica thought, she'd get one that would want to be loved, that would want to hug and kiss and pretend she was someone else. She always faired better when they wanted her to be someone else. Veronica's not sure who she's supposed to be today, but whatever role she was playing today, it was damaged and scarred and nothing pretty. She was damaged and scarred and definitely not the pick of the litter._

_She glances up beneath her lashes towards the door as it opens, breath catching at the blond haired man standing in the door. She's sure she should know him, loud and brash and a pain in her ass. She's sure she hates him, but can't quite remember why. He's speaking quickly to Mama, laughing, drunk, the smell of booze floating through the room. Veronica can't make out the words but she thinks she wants to. _

_He turns to leave, laughing, stepping outside, but he's back quickly, dragging another boy with him. Veronica feels the room sway, tilt beneath her feet before it rights itself. It's the smiling boy, the one that she almost remembers and wants to forget. She's supposed to know him, she knows she is, but it's just beyond her grasp. She takes a step forward; she's not supposed to. She's not supposed to move._

_The fear takes over, stopping her in her tracks. Mama will get mad if she disobeys, but she wants his attention. She knows she wants his attention, but Mama would get mad and Brute would mete out the consequences. Veronica breaks free of her fear taking one more step forward, catching his attention with her movement._

_She watches as his face pales, a shadow across his eyes. Watches as he shakes his head, backing away. He whispers something, before grabbing his friend's elbow, dragging him out the door. He's gone before she realizes what he'd whispered._

'_Veronica.'_

_She knew the name, knew it was hers, but couldn't figure out how she'd known him. The memories were a jumble in her head, tossed together like a salad. She lets out a small, hysterical laugh, stepping back to her place. _

_He didn't know her, hadn't known her. He wasn't someone she could remember, so why bother trying. Mama was giving her a look, and not a good look. The look that meant nothing but pain in Veronica's future. She'd get the bottom of the barrel again today, the bottom, and then she wouldn't have to work for awhile. Maybe that was better after all. She'd get to rest, get to drift, all by herself in the dank back room._

_Later, hours, days, Veronica's not sure how much time had passed. She's ensconced under a canvas cover, recovering. Bruised, bloody, tired beyond anything she'd felt before. The guy had beaten her, strangled her, torn her to pieces before handing her over to Brute. Brute had used the belt for Veronica's sins, the leather biting into her skin until she was no longer able to scream, no longer able to breath. _

_The memory came back, of the dark haired boy. Flitting through her mind on the sweet onrush of the opium. She'd known him once, if she didn't think about it she could even remember the taste of his kisses. He'd been one that pretended to love her, had held her and wished she was someone else. Veronica thought he might have been one of her first customers, one of the first to take her, but that memory didn't fit. Didn't fit with the breaking glass and heated kisses. They'd kissed outside, and Veronica, Veronica hadn't been outside in a very long time._

_He was from the time before, she thought, mulling it over on the ebb and flow of the drugs. He was from before the time she remembered. He had to be. But why had he walked away, unless… unless he was the reason she was there._

_The drugs took her away, swirling through her mind, her body, lethargy set in and she fell into a drug induced haze. Sleep wasn't far behind. The last thought that flew through her mind before she completely lost herself was, 'Logan. His name was Logan.' _

_She watches for him, repeating his name in her head over and over again so this time she won't forget. Veronica watches for Logan to come back for her. To bring someone to take her away, she's sure that rescue isn't far behind now. Not now that he's seen her here. _

_Veronica waits, patiently, obediently, she swallows the drugs and does what she's told. It's all in the name of surviving, she tells herself, that she does the things she doesn't really want to do. She knows it's wrong, but it's so much easier. So much easier to swallow down what she's told, than be swallowed whole by the thoughts that plague her._

_There's no way to judge the passing of time, but she knows it's time to give up. The Logan isn't coming back, isn't coming to her rescue. He's not coming back, the Logan in her mind laughs at her, calling her a whore. He whispers to her that he would never come back for a common whore like her. He just wouldn't. He saw her there, saw her here and he left her. She swallows it down, lets the drugs take her where he can't. Follows the next customer into the back room. Stops fighting the memories and just lets go._

Logan's frozen to the floor, unsure of what to say, what to do. He'd thought, back then, that she'd been a mirage his mind was conjuring. Wanting to see her so badly, wanting Veronica so much that he'd seen her everywhere. He hadn't questioned why he'd seen her, scarred, abused, bruised, in a small Mexican brothel. He'd seen her everywhere else. Logan had run away, far away from what he thought had been a hallucination. He'd run as fast as he could.

He'd left her there.

She'd been real, and he'd left her there.

"I didn't know," Logan whispered, voice cracking on the emotions swirling through him. "I didn't know," he repeated before he finally broke down in tears on the floor.

Veronica looked up, the tears drying on her face. The words had spilled out, the things she'd finally remembered earlier in her therapy session, bursting forth so that someone knew, so that someone could share her confusion. She hadn't meant to tell Logan, hadn't meant to tell anyone. But there they were, laid bare in the moonlight.

Wallace stood stock still at the back of the room. He'd witnessed Veronica's melt down, witnessed her destroying the room, watched as the words spilled out of her mouth, and now, now he wasn't sure what to do. The anger filled him, boiling below the surface, tearing him to pieces with the sharp jagged edges.

"You saw her?" Wallace bit out, jaw clenched. He took one step towards Logan before he physically restrained himself. "You saw her, and you left her there?" Wallace watched as Logan shrunk in on himself, watched as the pain flashed across his face, the tears spilling down his cheeks.

"I didn't know. I thought I was seeing things," Logan repeated, staring at Veronica. He'd been there, feet from her, and hadn't realized it was really Veronica. Logan slowly got to his feet, the room closing in on him. "I saw her all the time. I saw her everywhere. I didn't know." Logan backed towards the door, hands held out in front of him as he repeated the words. "I saw you everywhere." He turned quickly, pulling frantically at the door. He had to get out of there. Had to get away.

Running down the hall, Logan passed Elena, tears still on his face. He slammed through the stairwell door and nearly tumbled down the stairs. Breathing erratic he struggled to keep his footing as he raced down the stairs, panic dogging at his heels. The cigarettes were in his hand before he'd even made it to the doors, fumbling the pack, nearly dropping it in his haste. He was out the doors and into the evening darkness before he brought it to his lips. The quick flame illuminated his panic struck features, highlighting his cheekbones and the silver tear tracks on his skin. His eyes lit with manic desperation as he drew deeply on the smoke.

He'd left her there. He'd been mere feet away from her and he'd left her there because… because he was too deep in the bottle to realize he wasn't hallucinating. He'd practically climbed into it when Veronica… but that didn't matter to Logan any more. The bottle didn't matter, his life didn't matter, nothing mattered. He'd left her there.

Logan thought back on the first time he'd seen Veronica…the first day in the hospital. The way her eyes had opened, staring at her father before turning to look at Logan. The flinch, the shift, the reaction. She'd flinched at the sight of him, moved away, shifted on the bed no matter the pain it caused her. Logan thought, replayed, tormented himself with those images playing behind his eyes. It hadn't been some random thing.

Veronica had been afraid of him.

Without thought, conscious or otherwise, Logan moved towards the parking lot heading towards the blazer Keith lent him every day. The cigarette hung from his dry lips, pasty and sticky with the taste of panic. He flicked it off somewhere into the parking lot before he even opened the door. Keith would smell the cigarette smoke a mile away, super sleuth that he was. Logan had to get out of there, had to; he had to run, be somewhere other than the hospital for once, for now, maybe for a long time.

The drive back to the hotel passed in a blur. Barely conscious of where he was actually driving to, Logan looked up at the tall building in surprise. He'd driven on automatic pilot. Glancing down at the vibrating pocket of his hoodie, Logan drew it out. Curious as to who would be phoning him at this time of the morning.

Before he had a chance to flip it open, the vibrations stopped. Missed the call. Flipping open the phone Logan blinked in shock. Fifty-Seven missed calls. Fifty-seven missed calls during a twenty minute drive. Keith, Duncan, Weevil, Mac, Dick, and thirteen from the hospital. The hospital. He'd left Veronica… he'd left her crying, after… he'd left Veronica. He'd left her so many times now he couldn't really count them anymore. He was always leaving her. After Lilly died, the field trip… that day in Mexico. Logan stopped thinking, trying to control his breathing.

It didn't work.

Full blown panic, the attack blinding him before he had a chance to prevent it. Breath hitching, pain blossoming in his chest, the world slid inward and was gone.

"He's not answering the phone, Keith. I'm not sure what to try next." Alicia hung up the phone for the seventh time. They'd both been frantically trying to phone him since Wallace had screamed over the phone. Logan had been there. He'd been there in the brothel with Veronica and he'd seen her. He'd seen her and he'd walked away.

Keith tried to be angry, tried to be upset, but he'd seen Logan during that year. He'd seen the mess the boy was in, the days he'd turn quickly because he'd seen her out of the corner of his eye. They'd all hallucinated her. They'd all seen her wherever they went, lurking in the shadows, hiding behind pillars, on the other side of the looking glass. Only to be disappointed when it turned out to be someone that looked like her, or a figment of their imaginations.

The only thing Keith Mars was upset about, the one thing that had him nearly banging his head against the wall in frustration was the fact that for a moment, one moment, Logan had stopped reaching out for the hallucination. The one time he'd stopped reaching, the one time he'd not tried to touch the girl they all loved, she'd been real.

"Send everyone out. See if we can track him down before he hits the border," Keith stated, no nonsense, all business. The panic eating at his insides clawed through him, left him bloody, but he refused to show it. They had to find Logan, Keith knew, had to find him before he did something stupid.

Alicia quickly phoned the others, organizing the search while Keith paced frantically across the room. She hung up the phone quietly, staring at Keith for a moment before making a decision. "We'll find him, Keith. You know we'll find him," she reassured getting up from her position on the bed. She moved towards the frantically pacing Keith, wrapping her arms around him to hold him still. "It's time. She's remembering, Keith. It's time to let us see her. To let her see she's surrounded by a loving family," Alicia whispered into his shoulder.

"I know," Keith admitted, turning in Alicia's embrace. "I just got her back," Keith's voice broke on the words. "I just got her back, but I might lose him in the process." Keith shook his head, "I'm going to look for him." Keith disentangled himself from Alicia's arms, placing a soft kiss on her mouth. "I'll be back when I find him." He met her eyes, kissing her again, slower, calming himself in her warm embrace. "I love you."

"I love you too," she smiled in understanding before making shooing motions. "Now go. Find him, make sure you call here when you do. That way I'll be able to call the others off." She smiled once more, gently, and watched as he walked out the door without another glance.

The past six months had been hard on all of them. They'd only been married a year. Six months of marriage and a bomb like this was dropped in their laps. She didn't regret it, didn't regret a single day of their one year marriage, didn't regret that Keith had forgotten their anniversary was today. She couldn't, not with Veronica back with them, back from the dead.

She had regrets, they sat like a lead ball in the pit of her stomach. Letting Logan and Keith try and handle Veronica's recuperation themselves. Letting Keith shut her out. Letting anyone keep Wallace away from Veronica for so long. Tomorrow, she promised herself, tomorrow would be different.

Sitting down on the bed beside the phone, she waited for Keith to call, for anyone to call and say they'd found Logan.

The black blazer was in the back parking lot of the hospital, parked towards the back in a dark corner. A testament to Veronica's jokes, teasing, prodding of her father during her year of exile, the year of being an outsider. Everyone knew the story, they'd heard it all, during the family get togethers, the reunions on special occasions. All the moments they'd shared stories of their version of Veronica in the past four years. They knew.

Logan Echolls behind the wheel was, however, a new addition.

Weevil slowly stepped up to the window, seeing the drool at the corner of Echolls' mouth. He wished he had a camera, or one of those camera phones the richies were always carrying around. What the boys back home wouldn't pay to see Logan fucking Echolls drooling all over himself.

Debating with himself on whether or not he should knock on the window, he watched as Logan's lips began to move. Twitching in his sleep, poor little white boy. Weevil smirked before rapping firmly on the window. "Hey Echolls, wake the fuck up so I can call off the dog and pony show," Weevil called loudly through the glass. Laughing outright when Logan jerked in his seat banging his head off the window. "Nice one, white boy, now open the fuck up."

Logan clicked the locks on the doors, but that was as far as he moved, shock setting in.

Weevil moved slowly around the blazer, trailing his fingers across the cool hood. Logan had been sitting there awhile. Asleep in the driver's seat while the rest of them panicked over him jumping off some bridge. It was typical Logan Echolls behavior, as far as Weevil was concerned.

Opening the door he slid slowly into the passenger seat, shifting till he was comfortable before turning to Logan. "Turn the key in the ignition and drive," Weevil commanded, reaching for his seat belt. Logan automatically did what he was told, which proved to Weevil that Logan was worse off than they'd all thought.

They drove through the streets, neither speaking, but Weevil was thinking. Thinking about Logan during the years Veronica was gone. Thinking about Logan during the year Veronica was an outcast. Even Weevil could admit: Logan Echolls was a supreme fucking mess.

"Pull over here," Weevil intoned, watching as Logan, once more, did as he was told. They were on a side street, the interior of the car illuminated by a wavering street light.

Removing his seatbelt, Weevil reached into the inside pocket of his jacket pulling out a flask. "Want?" He asked shaking the booze at Logan, taking a swig himself when Logan didn't respond. "Alright then. Want to give me a reason you've been doing a reasonable impersonation of a zombie since I found you?" Weevil questioned. He hadn't been told the reason behind Logan's little freak out.

Logan shook his head, gripping the steering wheel and staring out the window. Weevil leaned back, taking another pull from the flask as he sat back for a long wait. Weevil knew that he could outwait a white boy who was used to instant gratification.

"You know. I always thought that Veronica and I…that we'd last forever. That after everything we'd been through together and apart, that we couldn't do anything but last forever," Logan mumbled, still staring blankly out the window. Weevil didn't interrupt, wanting to see where the monologue was going. "And then she was gone. Just gone… without a word…no body…no nothing. One second she was laughing and telling me she loved me and the next…nothing." Logan turned towards Weevil, finally focusing on something other than the windshield. "I thought we had forever, you know? I thought… but it was all gone in that instant and I had to learn everything all over again. I had to teach myself that forever was fleeting." Logan sighed bending forward to place his head on the cool leather of the steering wheel.

"Cut the tortured act and get to the point, Echolls," Weevil growled, finally getting impatient with the poor pity me act Logan was putting on.

"I saw her everywhere, you know? Everywhere. She was always at the bottom of a bottle. She was always just around the corner, a reflection in a mirror. Veronica was always there," Logan whispered, bathed in demons. "I thought she was a figment of my imagination. One more hallucination," Logan choked out, the shock finally receding.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Weevil ground out, a sneaking suspicion making its way through his mind.

"I saw her, Weevil. I saw her and thought she was just my tortured imagination. I thought I'd finally managed to crawl far enough into the bottle," Logan spoke, his voice shaking.

Weevil slammed his hands down on the dashboard, anger lighting his features. "What the fuck are you talking about?" He bit out, jaw clenched.

"I was there in the brothel. Feet from her, and I didn't save her. I thought I was imagining things. I ran. Out the door and down the street and straight back to the States. I ran, Weevil." Logan admitted the words out loud, shaking his head.

Weevil scrambled at the door handle, stumbling out of the vehicle, knees barely holding him as he shook with anger. Logan fucking Echolls had seen her, there, in Mexico. "Get out of the car, dumb ass," Weevil yelled, still shaking with anger.

Logan got slowly out of the blazer, certain that he was about to get beat down. Certain that he deserved every little thing that Weevil gave him. Logan watched Weevil come around the front of the blazer, watched as he got close. The height difference didn't really matter, the fact Weevil barely came to his chin, Weevil's presence made him large, the anger made him six feet tall.

Weevil put the flask in Logan's hand. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself, before finally speaking. "How did you remember all of this now?" Needing to know, needing to torture himself with the details.

Logan took a long draw from the flask, liquid courage burning down his throat. He fumbled in his pocket, drawing out the ever present package of cigarettes. He offered one to Weevil, who refused, and put one in his mouth, lighting it quickly and drawing even more strength from the cancer filling his lungs. "She remembered," Logan admitted, after a moment, "She remembered that day." Logan sucked on the cigarette, wet lipping the mouth of the flask as he burned the taste of smoke from his mouth with the sting of booze.

"So, Veronica remembers something, something you don't like, and you what? Run?" Weevil asked, incredulous. "You are some piece of work. Where's the man that wouldn't let anyone near her in the past six months? Where's the over protective busy body that's been holding us all at bay, hogging her for yourself?" Weevil questioned quickly. "You find out one thing you don't like, something concerning you, and you're gone? That makes a whole lot of sense, Echolls." Weevil shook his head, not bothering to wait for a response from Logan. "The damn world is full of what ifs. If you would've gone on that field trip, if we hadn't given up, if we all hadn't stopped reaching for that god damn hallucination. Life is full of them, fucktard, but get over it. She remembered something today. Something very, very painful for all parties, and you ran. That's not what she needs," Weevil ground out.

Logan looked at the smoke in his hand, the flask in his other, and promptly dropped both. "Fuck, I have to get back," Logan scrambled for the blazer, watching as Weevil ran around the front and jumped in beside him. "I need to get back." Weevil just nodded, buckling his seat belt quickly.

Breaking every single traffic law on the way back to the hospital, Weevil found him clutching at the door, but he'd never admit it. Never admit that Logan Echolls' driving scared the shit out of him. They pulled up in front of the hospital in record time. Logan not even bothering to turn the blazer off before he was out and running towards the front entrance. Weevil shook his head, removing the keys from the ignition and slowly followed.

Logan took the door running through the lobby, not waiting for the elevators as he clambered up the stairs. Down the hallway of Veronica's floor, past the nurses station, into Veronica's room, sending the door flying back into the wall with a loud bang. Wallace still stood slightly behind Veronica, but the room had been set to rights. Logan slipped on the slick floor, sliding across it on his knees, ending up a foot from Veronica. Breathing heavy, panicked as he saw the blankness on her face.

"I'm here," Logan panted out, inching closer, reaching out for her. "I'm here," he breathed, as she finally turned towards him.

"You didn't rescue me." She stated, face still blank.

"I'm here now," Logan said softly, drawing her out of the chair and into his arms. Relief washing over him when she didn't struggle, didn't pull away. "I'm not going anywhere," Logan whispered into her hair, holding her close.

Weevil finally made it to the room, seeing Veronica for the first time, buried in Logan's embrace. "Hey, Fennel. Let's go call the others," Weevil said softly, not wanting to disturb the two on the floor.

They made their way out of the room towards the nurses' station, towards Elena who was looking at them inquisitively.

"Elena, this is Weevil." Wallace made introductions as he picked up the phone to call his mother.

"Pleased to meet you, Weevil," Elena smiled, before looking back at the door. "Everything all right in there?" Elena asked cautiously.

"Not really, but it will be," Weevil stated with confidence, listening with half an ear to Wallace's conversation.

"Leather's a good look for you," Elena smirked, watching the flush creep into Weevil's cheeks.

"So I've been told," he managed, nearly choking on the words. The woman was old enough to be his grandmother.

"Enough of that, Elena. I'll think you don't love me anymore." Wallace laughed as he replaced the receiver, turning back to Weevil. "They're all on their way. Looks like we're all going to be reintroduced to Veronica Mars." Wallace smiled slightly, before turning back towards the door.

"Let's wait. We'll go back in when the others get there," Weevil commanded, taking charge of the situation.

"So, you free tomorrow night?" Elena asked Weevil, a twinkle in her eye.

Weevil stood stunned for a moment before the flush crept up his neck and into his cheeks.

"Elena! Behave yourself, stop scaring the big bad biker." Wallace laughed, grinning at the look of utter discomfiture on Weevil's face.

"Oh, pish. He's not afraid of little ol' me," Elena fluttered her lashes. Weevil backed away.

"I'm just gonna go, um, wait in the visitors' lounge." Weevil turned heading off in the opposite direction, calling over his shoulder, "Coming, Fennel?"

"Now I've seen everything," Wallace said in wonder. "You scared Weevil." Wallace looked at Elena with new appreciation. "I think now? You are officially my hero."

Elena's trilling laughter followed them all the way down the hallway to the visitors' room.

lj-cut text="Part Nine"

_Time had stopped. Tick tock, tick tock, and then nothing. Nothing at all. The pain swept her away, dropped her in the middle and left her there to bleed to death. It wouldn't stop. The sweet rush of warmth down her legs, and it wouldn't stop. The baby wouldn't stop crying now, but she was sure it wasn't here, wasn't in the room with her._

_Time had stopped._

_The confusion was eating at Veronica's brain, eating it like the mouse ate the cheese, or the rat. Veronica was sure there were rats there, in the corner, just out of her line of sight. They'd forgotten her. Mama and Brute, they'd left her here in the dark. Days, minutes, days, maybe years. No, she told herself, it couldn't be years. She'd be dead if she'd lain there for years._

_The door was open, and there was a man. A man. Veronica tried to roll over, tried to do what was expected of her. Tried to do what Mama would want, but she couldn't move. The pain in her belly nearly tore her in half, and she was so cold. The coldness running through her veins. _

_Maybe, she thought, maybe it was all over now. Maybe she was dying, maybe she was already dead._

Logan cried along with Veronica as the words came stumbling out of her mouth. There were starts, fits and stops as she spoke. Broke the words down and choked on them. She struggled, the ghosts in the corner urging her to do as she was told. But she didn't want to; she didn't want to be that girl anymore.

"Who am I, Logan?" She questioned softly, when the tears had slowed.

"You're Veronica Mars," Logan responded into her hair, the silken tresses pressed against his cheek. "You're Veronica Mars," He repeated, reassuring her with every single touch.

"But… who is that? Who is she?" She questioned, her voice hoarse from crying.

"Whoever you want her to be," Logan stated resolutely. He held her close and cried with her.

"They're here, you know. Mama and Brute. The babies, the girls… the ones that didn't make it. They're all here now," Veronica whispered, staring over his shoulder at the ghosts of the past.

"No one's here but us," Logan choked out, pulling away to see the hated blank look on her face. He watched as it cleared, watched as she moved back to look at him.

"There's always someone else here. They… make them go away?" She cried, burying her head back into his shoulder. The tears once more falling down her cheeks.

"We will," Logan promised, certainty in his voice. "We'll do it together."

"What if we can't?" She gasped out, voicing her fears.

"There's nothing we can't do, Veronica. Nothing." Logan promised again, the sound of the door to Veronica's room opening momentarily startling him. Glancing up he saw his family, saw the others framed in the light from the hallway. "There's people here, your family, they'll help. We'll all help." Logan promised, turning his head to meet Keith's eyes.

"Veronica?" Keith's voice broke through the silence in the room. "Veronica, there's some people I want you to meet."

Pulling out of Logan's arms she turned to face the door. Turned to face her past staring her in the face. She remembered them all, remembered them from the good times and the bad times. She remembered…

"Weevil." She whispered, smiling slightly at the shocked look on the biker's face. She turned to the next boy in the group, the next man, smile faltering slightly as she tried to place him, tried to remember where she knew him from. "Dick?" She looked to Logan for confirmation, nodding when his mouth quirked up at the corner. Veronica's sure he shouldn't be here. She's sure she didn't like him, but the gentle smile on his face makes her hesitate, makes her doubt the fragile memories that are clambering to get in.

Keith moved further into the room, the others trailing in behind him. "Meg and Duncan." Veronica's voice broke once more through the stillness, taking in their solemn faces. "Mac…" she paused, trying to place the young boy beside Mac. Unable to do so she turned faced Wallace. "Wallace, Alicia." She paused, the young boy held in Alicia's arms slightly familiar, a mirror image of a younger version of Wallace. "Darryl." She stated with certainty, before turning once more towards the young man she'd not been able to place. "Cas…" she trailed off searching for the word, the right name. "Cassidy." She whispered out, something knotting tightly in her stomach.

It slid, slick and wet through her consciousness, and she burrowed deeper into Logan's embrace. She didn't understand, couldn't place the point where she became uncomfortable, couldn't pin down the slick sliding fear that overcame her.

"Hey, Veronica." Duncan's voice broke through the fear. Brought her back to the present, to the people waiting on her, for her, the people crowding her hospital room.

"Hey." Veronica whispered, burying her face in Logan's shoulder. It was too much, too many people, too little space. Too many things all at once, crowding her brain. The pain from her earlier confessions lanced through her and the wail of a baby drifted through her mind.

They all began to speak at once, but Veronica couldn't hear them. Could only hear the distant rumble of her memories crashing through the surface. They didn't understand, couldn't know.

"Stop." She whispered. Soft words and the room went quiet. "Too loud." She spoke against Logan's shirt, mouthing the fabric, leaving a damp patch when she breathed.

"Why don't we try one at a time?" Keith suggested helpfully, moving further into the room, sitting on Veronica's hospital bed. Veronica watched as Alicia moved closer to her father, linking their hands, Keith tightening his grip before slowly releasing it. The reflexive motion brought Veronica back to the present.

"One at a time." She nodded, repeating her father's statement. She knew them all, knew them, but could barely remember them. Logan told her stories, when she couldn't sleep. Mac and Beaver were together, college students, living in dorms while they carried on their relationship. They were getting married three days after they graduated.

Duncan and Meg had a baby. A baby Veronica hadn't known about, but that was born six months after she'd left Neptune. No, she corrected herself, six months after they thought she'd disappeared. They weren't… married. They lived together, were happy, held Logan's hand while he cried. Logan cried.

Eli Navarro was the biker Logan disliked, hated, tolerated on occasions. Logan told her, explained that Weevil always owed her favors, always owed her something. He'd dated Lilly Kane, Veronica's best friend. Her best friend who'd died. Not Wallace. Wallace was her best friend then. After? She questioned, she couldn't place it, couldn't figure it out in her head.

She took them all in silently, watching every one of them be still and silent at her father's command, no one willing to go first. Veronica smiled hesitantly, encouragingly. These people, they were family. She knew family, knew what the concept was. Logan was family, Keith was family. They visited, listened, cried for her when she wasn't able to cry for herself.

"I'm Veronica." She spoke again, proudly, unsure of exactly what she was saying. She watched Meg begin to cry, watched her burry herself in Duncan's arms. Watched the play of emotion on each of their faces. They didn't understand what she was trying to say, but then, Veronica didn't either. "I'm Veronica Mars." She stated again, elaborating, trying to make sense of the thoughts in her head. Trying to make sense of the room full of people. "I'm here." She stated, looking to Logan for approval, seeing the same confusion on his face.

Veronica thought, struggled, fought to find the words to explain, to make them understand, to help herself to understand. "I'm Veronica Mars and I'm here." She said again, frustration clearly on her face. She stood, pulling herself out of Logan's embrace, standing slight and tall in the dimly lit room. "I'm Veronica Mars and I'm here." She breathed, and finally, realization dawned on her. She'd survived. She was here, surrounded by her family, and she'd survived.

Duncan watched the play of emotions on Veronica's face, watched the train of thought derail as she came to a conclusion. Unsure of the point she was trying to get across, he pulled away from Meg, moving closer to her. Slowly, trying not to spook her as he gently touched her arm. "I'm Duncan Kane." He felt foolish saying it, she'd already said his name, she'd already acknowledged his presence. "I'm Duncan and I'm here." He drew her slowly into his arms, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo. She was real, Veronica Mars was finally real.

One by one they moved closer, each in turn saying their names, reintroducing themselves as they hugged her gently, reassuring themselves that she was, in fact, real. Veronica drooped, in the midst of the welcome, in the midst of the tears. She visibly wilted as the world tilted around her. She glanced in the corner of the room, and Mama shook her head, pointed to the bed. Veronica wilted, nodded, and yawned.

"I'm tired." Her voice was small, exhausted, and Keith took her cue.

"All right everybody. I think Veronica's had enough family time for one night. We can all come back tomorrow, after she's had a good night's sleep." He ushered them out the door as everyone called goodbyes and goodnights over their shoulders. Once more, Veronica was alone with Logan.

"I'm tired." Veronica repeated, exhausted, emotionally drained, uncomfortable with all the touching and hugging. They'd touched her in love, not in anger, she told herself, they touched her with love.

"Come on, baby. Let's get you into bed." Logan spoke gently, a small smile on his face as he tucked her beneath the blankets. "I'll be right back." Logan kissed her forehead, before leaving the room, nearly trampling the others in the hall.

"She's exhausted." He spoke, but a smile played across his face. "She's tired enough to sleep I think." Keith nodded, smiling. It was a step towards getting their Veronica back. One more step in a long and intricate dance they'd been stepping for months.

"We're going back to the hotel. Don't think I'm going to let your little escapade tonight go, though. We'll talk about it later." Nodding resolutely, Keith took Alicia's hand and made his way towards the elevators, not waiting for the goodbye scene to play out behind him.

Meg and Mac hugged Logan quickly, saying their quiet goodbyes as Logan traded nods with all the boys. Dick headed towards the elevators without a word before turning back towards Logan, taking the few steps quickly he enveloped Logan in a quick hug. "I'm gonna head home. I shouldn't be here." Dick stated, softly, sympathetically before heading back towards the elevators. Not bothering to give Logan a chance to respond.

"We'll all be back tomorrow, man." Duncan said, following quickly after his girlfriend.

Heading back into the room, Logan saw that Veronica was already asleep. Curled up in the hospital bed looking small. Fragile. Safe. She looked safe.

_There were a lot of loud noises in the dark room. A dark room away from the awful smelling one she had spent so much time in. A different room, the same men. Veronica's mind assumed they were the same men. The pain was worse here and there was white. Veronica had forgotten what white looked like. No more dirt, no more shades of brown and faded red. There was white. It hurt her eyes at first, the brightness, the light. The hands rough on her tender flesh._

_There was a machine, a bird? She wasn't sure, but it whirled, groaned, as they loaded her into it. Into the belly of the beast, Veronica's mind reminded her, that the belly was the worst place to be. She felt a pinch on her neck and the dizzying blades above her head faded to nothingness._

_She was alone when she woke up. Her belly hurt, burned, fire, and there was something stuck in her skin. Reaching her hands down she tried to pull at it, tried to tear them out, they itched, hurt, burned, the fire inside her raged out of control._

_Fingers worked industriously, she managed to get one of the pieces of wire from her skin before a dark skinned woman in white came bustling into the room._

"_Now girl, stop that. The nice doctor just put all of those in for you, and we don't want you to undo everything he did, do you?" She paused, watched as Veronica shrank in on herself. "No matter, it's only one." The nurse reached carefully to the side of the bed, she grabbed the first lined cuff attached to the side rail. "Let's just make sure you don't hurt yourself, kay?" The nurse questioned softly as she watched carefully for any reaction Veronica might have given. The cuff slid easily around her too thin wrist, set to the smallest setting, and Veronica could see the doubt in her eyes. Unsure of what it meant, Veronica tugged experimentally on the cuff, surprised when her hand didn't slip immediately free._

"_The doctor will be in later, sweets, just lay back and rest." The nurse bustled to the other side of the bed, petted Veronica's lank hair before she placed the other cuff around Veronica's other wrist. "There now, all set." The nurse changed the IV bag, clicked something on the monitor, and then she was gone in a cloud of vanilla scented perfume._

_Veronica took in her surroundings, tried to place where she was, what was happening. They'd fixed the pain in her belly, made it fly out the window. The water in the bag was… was…_

_Those were Veronica's last thoughts before she drifted once more into exhausted slumber._

Noon the next day brought Veronica another room full of visitors. She refused to leave her bed, exhausted and wan from the night before. Everyone stayed quiet, watching as she slept off and on throughout the day. Quietly chatting with each other as they sat their vigil.

Veronica had a nightmare in the middle of the afternoon, waking up gasping, clawing at her stomach with clawed fingers. She gasped, yelled Logan's name, cried until she couldn't breathe and promptly passed out. Logan was beside himself, unable to do anything to help her, unable to protect her. The others watched in quiet desperation as Veronica struggled with herself, struggled with the demons eating away at her.

"This is normal?" Duncan asked Logan quietly, unsure if their presence had made things worse, wanting to know if this was a regular occurrence.

"As normal as anything is anymore." Logan admitted, brushing Veronica's hair off her forehead, cooling her sweaty face. "She has nightmares sometimes, bad ones, more of a night terror really." Logan spoke quietly, barely turning to look at the others in the room.

"Is there anything we can do?" Meg asked, tear stricken. It was too much, what Veronica had been through, Meg couldn't understand how she'd survived. How anyone could survive that much damage.

"Let her sleep it off. She's out now, for a while at least. Anyone want to go make a coffee run?" Logan asked, changing the subject abruptly. He'd learned that it didn't pay to dwell on her nightmares; it only drove him insane with worry.

"I'll go." Weevil volunteered, unfolding himself from his position on the floor. "Come with me, Fennel. We'll grab lunch for everyone too." Weevil patted Wallace's shoulder, waiting while guy stood up.

Logan automatically reached for his wallet, going to give Weevil money. "Don't worry about it. I got this one." Weevil waved Logan off, heading out the door without another word.

"Any allergies?" Wallace spoke up perkily as he headed after Weevil, not bothering to wait for the others to answer.

_She was never alone. Women in white, men in coats, but no one touched her. They moved, they talked, they expected her to understand. More often than not she ignored them. Totally aware of her surroundings, but not acknowledging them, if she admitted they were there they'd touch her, they'd… do things. Veronica knew they'd do those things to her, they all did. _

_Very careful to keep her face blank when the smiling woman in white changed the bag of water, Veronica watched everything she did, committed it to memory. If she could just remember, Veronica convinced herself, if she could just remember everything then nothing could touch her again._

_The bag changed, and the world spun dizzily. She tried to protest, tried to stay aware of her surroundings, but it was too much. The world slipped away, the room became fuzzy, and the wail of babies sung her to sleep._

_There was a man. One man in a black suit that came to visit her every night. He stood in the corner of the room and didn't make a sound. He barely breathed while he watched her. He was the one she was most afraid of. The ones that watched were always the worst._

_The day he spoke, Veronica broke out in a cold sweat, her skin cold and clammy. He called her Jane, telling her about the weather outside, the night skyline she could see from the window. She was allowed to look out the window. At least she thought she was… no one had stopped her from sitting in the chair. She thought she remembered missing the wind on her face, the sun on her skin. She thought, but she couldn't remember._

_Veronica didn't acknowledge the man either. Aware of every spot he had touched, every place he had been in her room, but unwilling to let him know. Unwilling to make contact because the smaller she was, the less likely he was to notice her. If she couldn't see him, he couldn't see her._

_The second time he spoke, he talked about her. Jane Doe was what he'd called her, but she knew that wasn't right. Knew the sounds were wrong when he'd called her by name. She didn't correct him._

Time is running together. The ghosts, her family, the time between, and she can't figure out which is real anymore. Veronica clings to Logan, watches as the others file in and out of her room, but she doesn't worry about them. Doesn't worry about the ones that hug her and kiss her forehead. They're gentle with her and she wants them to be real.

The malevolent stares of the others, the ones hiding in the shadowy corners of the room, those are the ones she worries about. The babies' wail is near constant, echoing in her ears so she can't hear the questions Logan asks her. Can't hear the words on her family's lips. She wants them to be real, wants them to be here with her. The ghosts, the demons, don't want to let her go.

Veronica thinks they want her back, dark skinned hands reaching out for her, wanting to pull her close, take her away. She's sure she's losing her mind. She glances frantically around the room, heart rate picking up when Mama brushes close to Weevil, trailing her hand across his bald head in a manner Veronica thinks is supposed to be seductive. He's the one Mama wants Veronica to kneel for. A _good, handsome, Mexican man,_ Mama whispers, _good for a tumble_. He wouldn't hurt Veronica, not really. Veronica shakes her head against Logan's shoulder, burying her face against the soft cotton of his shirt. He pats her back gently, searching the room for anything that might have caused her distress.

Mama's voice is loud in Veronica's ear now, screaming at her to do as she's told. Mama is the boss, Mama causes pain, and Veronica moves. An inch, but Logan refuses to let her go. Pulls her closer and strokes her back, holds her tighter and brushes the hair back from her face.

Day turns to evening, and no one shows signs of leaving, settling in for the night…or until Logan and Keith throw them out into the hallway on their butts.

The ghosts are getting closer, strangling Veronica with their constant demands. She can't tell the difference anymore, except for Logan's arms wrapped tightly around her. Mama seems to like Weevil the most, curling around him and whispering to Veronica. She wants Veronica to touch him, wants her to… make her some money. Veronica shakes her head, burrowing deeper into Logan's embrace.

Patting her back, Logan watches the others, watches them nodding off against the wall. It is late, very late, they all have to leave soon. All have to go. Veronica is shifting in his embrace, her breathing getting more labored by the minute. The soft panicked breathing alerting him to her real state of mind.

Logan can feel her lips moving against his chest, her lips mouthing at the fabric as she speaks quietly. He waves his hand impatiently at the loudly talking crew, urging them to shut up so he could make out the words.

"No, no, no, nononononono," until it became one long litany.

Logan stares resolutely over the top of her head at the crowd. "That's it for tonight, everybody out." His tone brooks no arguments and the others turn to leave, calling goodbyes over their shoulders. Keith stays behind.

"She okay?" Keith asks, watching Veronica pressed tightly against Logan.

"Not really, but she will be." Veronica's voice comes out muffled, soaked with tears, from against Logan's shirt. She turns her face to the side, staring at her father with glistening eyes. "It was just too much, all of them here at once. Next time…" she trails off, the idea left open for Logan and Keith's interpretation.

"Right. I'm going back to the hotel for some sleep." Keith pauses at the door, turning back towards the two kids on the floor. "Try to get some too, okay? They'll all be back here tomorrow, and you'll both need your rest." Keith rolls his eyes, as he opens the door and hears the argument between Dick and Weevil in the hallway.

Logan rubs gently at Veronica's back, soothing her with his gentle touch. "Let's get you up in the bed, shall we? Much more comfortable there, than it is here on the cold floor." He jokes weakly, easily lifting the slight Veronica into his arms as he stands.

Placing her on the bed, he tucks the covers around her, wrapping her tightly to keep out the chill in the room. Moving to grab the chair by the window so that he'll have something to stretch his legs on, he pauses at the feel of Veronica's hand gripping his arm.

"Stay?" Veronica asks softly, a note of pleading in her voice.

"I am. I'm not going anywhere, well other than to get the chair." Logan smiles, once more trying to move towards the chair.

"No. I mean, stay here with me." Veronica intones, watching Logan's reaction as she tugs gently on his arm. "Keep the ghosts away. Mama's here. She won't go away, Logan. She wants me too… wants me too..." she whispers out, fear staining her voice, making it shake. Mama was only a foot away from the bed now, real and clear in Veronica's mind. She breathes, she talks, she threatens. Brute is there behind her, standing to Veronica's left, Mama's right, waiting for the order, the order to smash until the aggression is worked out of his system.

"They aren't here. Is that what was bothering you?" Logan asks hesitantly, wanting to soothe her but unsure of how to fight Veronica's ghosts.

"They've been here all day." She admits softly, not daring to look at Mama anymore. Not daring to acknowledge her.

"Don't look, sweetheart. Ignore them. Imagine they aren't there." Logan leans down kissing her forehead.

"Stay with me? Here?" Veronica repeats, pulling him closer, tugging at his hand until he climbs in beside her. "Just… make them go away." She whispers, once more burying her face in his shirt. "Make them stop." She whispers, not daring to look over to where Mama is standing.

"I'm not going anywhere." Logan cuddles her close, holding her tightly as he glares at the rest of the room. "They can't hurt you anymore. Not now that I'm here. They can't touch you." He whispers, kissing the soft hair at the top of her head. "I won't let them." He promises softly.

"Just hold me, they can't touch me that way." Veronica states, absolutely certain that Logan would protect her. Mama slowly disappearing into the shadows, Brute beside her. They're almost gone. "Just hold me." She repeats again, moving closer as Logan's arms tighten further around her, making it hard to breathe. "They're almost gone." She whispers in awe, watching the ghosts fade from the room. The sound of the baby crying a distant echo in the back of her mind.

Logan's hesitation melts away in that instant, glaring into the room at large. No one was going to scare Veronica, not even the ghosts she can't seem to exorcize. He cradles her in his arms, resting her head on his chest. He holds her as her breathing deepens, he holds her as the sun breaks over the horizon. Logan stays awake for all of it.

He strokes her back. Runs his fingers through her hair. Whispers to her in the darkness of the room. Whispers all of his hopes and promises, until they are laid bare before her. On Veronica's part, she sleeps on, unaware of the world around her. A dark, dreamless sleep.

The sun peaks through the drawn curtains, catching his eye. Logan pauses with his fingers tangled in Veronica's hair, looking towards the window. Towards the sun peaking through, and finally, he understands.

It's a new day.

She couldn't stop shaking, cold, so cold from the tops of her toes to the tips of her head. They'd taken the bag of water away yesterday, removed the sharp thing from her arm. The world became clearer, Veronica shivered under blankets, sweat soaked her skin. Sharper, the room was sharper. The white hurt her eyes, the blood ran across the floor and Veronica didn't understand.

Why was there blood on the floor? A blanket, a casket, she couldn't make tails or heads of it.

The man in black was back again. Earlier this time, Veronica thought, earlier because the sun was still in the sky. He held her hair back when she vomited, thick and vile all over the floor. Wiped her face with a cool face cloth when the salt licked at her skin. He was gentle and scary. The gentle ones were never what they seemed.

They took the bag away, she's not sure when, but they took the bag away. She wanted to ask for it back, wanted the numbness it afforded her, wanted the world to be not so bright, not so sharp that the edges cut into her eyes. She wanted it to stop.

He held her hair back and the world tilted precariously on the top of a spindle. It seesawed back and forth until Veronica fell off./I

Steven steps into Veronica's room as the sun in rising, taking note of the Echolls boy in her bed. They're both sleeping soundly, by the looks of it. But Logan Echolls' eyes pop open when the door clicks shut behind Steven. They stare at each other for a moment, neither saying a word. Steven moves further into the room, taking the seat beside the bed.

Logan turns to continue staring at Steven. Unsure of why the man is there this early in the morning. Why he's there at all. "What did you want?" Logan finally asks, the strained silence grating on his nerves.

"You're father wasn't responsible for the bus crash," Steven says softly, his voice a bare whisper in the quiet room.

"Keith told me," Logan admits, holding Veronica a little tighter, just a little closer.

"That means someone else was," Steven states, still staring at the two entwined on the bed.

"I realize that. Someone had to cause the crash if Aaron didn't do it." Logan rolls his eyes at the stupidity of the FBI agent's statement. The way he stated the obvious. "Your point?"

"The case has been reopened. I've been assigned to it. Since I've been working Veronica's case," Steven states, turning his head to look out the window.

"And?" Logan's getting impatient, unsure of exactly where Steven was going with the conversation.

"And, Veronica's the only witness. The only one alive." Steven turns back to Logan, staring him straight in the eyes. "She's the only witness, Logan."

Logan thinks about that for a moment, thinks about the statement. It is true. Veronica was the only one alive. The only one that had been on the bus, moments before it crashed. Somewhere in her mind were the memories, buried deep and lost to the hand fate dealt her… Logan corrected himself harshly, lost to the hand his father had dealt her.

"What do you want?" Logan asked bluntly.

"I'm going to solve this case, but I'm going to need Veronica's help," Steven spoke just as softly, not wanting to disturb Veronica.

"No," Logan spoke resolutely. Veronica was not going anywhere near the case, not after everything she'd been through.

"I want to help," Veronica spoke up, still pressed tightly against Logan's side. Neither man had been aware she'd awoken during their conversation. "Isn't that what I do? Or did? Or something?" Veronica asked, turning her head to stare up at Logan. "I used to save the day. You told me that." Logan nodded slightly, fear and panic taking over.

"You did. But…Veronica…" Logan trailed off at the look in her eye, the resolution clearly marked on her face.

"I want to be me again, Logan. I just want to be me again," she whispered, ignoring Steven completely. Seeking Logan's permission.

The old Veronica never would have asked, Logan thought. So many changes to his girl, so many changes and none of them made the least bit of sense.

"Let me think about it?" Logan asked, not wanting to say no to her. "Let's talk to Keith and go from there." He compromised quickly as her mouth turned down.

"I'm doing it." She turned slowly towards Steven. "I'll help." She turned quickly back towards Logan, stating the words she'd said at the turning point. The point Logan marked in his mind as the moment Veronica started to return. "I want to go home."

He stared at her for a moment before slowly nodding.

"I want to go home," she whispered, oblivious to Steven staring at them, oblivious to the room around her she repeated one more time, in wonder, in awe, in resolution.

"I want to go home."

The End


End file.
